


Double Loser Truce

by Dodger_Bunny



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Family Feels, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Out of order storytelling, Slow Burn, We'll just see where this goes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2020-10-20 05:20:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 96,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20669975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dodger_Bunny/pseuds/Dodger_Bunny
Summary: Somewhere along the line, two of Earth's greatest mortal enemies stopped hating one another, and decided they'd rather go see what the other was doing later after school. How did such a thing come to be? Well, it all started with a truce.





	1. So Just Leave With Me

Now, it wasn’t that the thought hadn’t crossed his mind. They’d talked about this plenty of times enough. He just hadn’t expected, he would… Dib hadn’t expected _Zim_ to be the one to suggest it first. So he had to be sure. He needed to be sure he’d heard the alien right. Zim hated to repeat himself, he was aware, but this was important.

“What did you say?” Dib requested.

Zim glared at him with his magenta eyes, as Dib had expected him to, but he relents and repeats himself.

“You could just leave. The Earth. With me.” As he clarified himself, he began to fold inward, and Dib could tell he was serious then.

Ever since they were juniors in high school the two had talked about it. They’d spent that whole summer building a ship, just to have it get destroyed in a freak piggie accident. One last reminder of their former rivalry. Dib remembered when Zim had found the pig responsible. He laughed like he’d lost his mind all over again and when Dib had asked what was so funny Zim just showed him the piggie signed to Zim love Zim.

Apparently, when Zim had managed to re-transplant his brain that brain had thought it a brilliant idea to hurl the toy into the future in a fit of rage. The piggie was bound to catch up to him eventually, and how strange it was that when it finally happened he could laugh about it instead.

“Then you fixed it,”

“Complete and total obliteration could hardly impede the aptitude of such a brilliant solider, er well, advanced mind. So yes Dib, don’t be shy. Praise me.”

“That’s amazing Zim! I can’t believe you built a ship from scratch in seven months! We hadn’t even found a proper motherboard for the cockpit last time. I can’t believe you finished an entire ship on your own.” Dib happily praised.

The purple flush of alien skin hadn’t been unnoticed on Dibs part. Strange that even now Zim had such a hard time accepting genuine praise and compliments. Then again, who else but Dib and his sister could the Irken be honest around? So he wasn’t surprised.

“Yes well,” Zim continued, while awkwardly clearing his throat, “we could have finished our project much faster if it weren’t for your insistence of this “_collash_” of yours.”

“It’s pronounced college, Zim.” The para-scientist corrected, “How have you been on Earth for the past twelve years and you’re still mispronouncing basic words?”

“No one noticed me out of place when I called you Dib-Stink.” The alien casually pointed out.

“Or when you used to call me, Dib-Worm.”

“Dib-Monkey,” Zim offered.

“Stink-Beast,” Dib helpfuly added.

“Earth-Stink,” Zim generously supplied.

“You always tried to find as many ways as possible to call me stink. Why so much focus on the smell?” Dib questioned indirectly, laughing as he asked.

“Insulting a creatures smell is the strongest attack of character you can achieve.” The Irken explained, “Sure, they could change their clothing, lose their weight, or cut their hair. They could even shrink their bulbous head,”

“I’ve grown into it,” Dib remarked defensively, cradling the head in question.

“But,” Zim continued,” no amount of soap can save someone from the inevitable fact that they _will_ stink again. And they will continue to stink for THE REST OF ETERNITY!!!”

At this Zim burst into an evil cackle standing up as high as his five feet of height could from the roof of Dibs house. Dib couldn’t help the smile that warmed his face, even if he wanted to shrink away from the various lights flickering on across his neighborhood.

“Zim keep it down!” Dib insisted, tugging at the aliens’ shirt, “Or do you want the neighborhood to see you out of your disguise?”

Zim smirks down at him, as if to say he was prepared to do it again.

“Poor delusional Dib. The only thing I have to do to cover myself is to say that I have pink eye. Works every time.” He replied while innocently clasping his hands together.

The autumn winds picked up leaving a chill in the air. Dib tucked his knees in as he wrapped his arms around them.

“Humans are stupid,” Dib grumbled, though not as bitterly as he once would have.

“Most of them, yes.” The other replied.

Zim sat back beside him, leaning over the human lazily. Dib often liked to imagine the day he’d leave the planet. Recently his imagination had it happening during his college lectures. There would be fiery explosions as all hell broke loose. The planet had doomed itself and chaos was rampant complete with rioting in the streets. Then, as the Earth began to split apart and swallow all the jerks that had ever teased and hassled Dib there Zim would be, hovering in a space ship as he stretched out his hand.

_“__Lets leave this filthy planet!”_ He imagined Zim to say, _“We’ll travel the stars, exploring the universe; together!”_

Dib would take his hand and they'd fly so far away from the planet he once swore to protect. Never looking back. It was funny, because in a realistic scenario Dib knew he would never leave the Earth like that. No, in reality, he’d do everything he could to save humanity. Zim would say he did too much for Earth. Dib would turn it back on him and say he did too much for Irk.

A rarely spoken of bond between two outcasts. Dib didn’t question Zim once he began venting his frustrations with his former Tallest. They’d been in sophomore year then. That’s just what hormonal teens did, complain. Dib did the same. The professor was far from an evil overlord but he sure did act like one.

Zim leaned himself comfortably against Dibs side and the para-scientist smiled fondly at his company. He knew what Zim was asking. This wasn’t a quick visit. The two had been planning this for years and Dib knew full well that once they left, they wouldn’t be coming back. In a move that was uncharacteristic of him, the Irken seemed to be taking his time, patiently sitting next to Dib as he used the humans coat as a barrier from the cold. Having Zim with him here felt like a moment that would never happen again and it had college, humanity and his very planet feeling like a hazy fever dream.

Could he leave it all behind? Was he ready? The other sighed and Dib looked down at him then. He was smiling. A smile so genuine and warm. It splayed across his face so naturally and drew Dibs attention.

Didn’t that use to be rare? Years ago, yes. As his thoughts drifted lazily about, and his arm draped over Zims shoulders he could hear his sister shuffling about from inside. She was the only other person home. He turned his head to glance back at his bedroom. There was just one last thing he needed to take care of first. Dib stood up, causing the other to look up at him with curious eyes.

“I have to get ready.”

A surge of confidence sparked in the Irkens’ smile.

“Gir and I will be waiting at the base.” Zim declared as he stood and dusted himself off, “Gather whatever preparations you need and… say your good-byes.”

It seemed like Zim had the same idea and Dib was already following the direction of his gaze. Hearing the shink of Zims’ mechanical spider legs had Dib turn back, giving the alien the tiniest of waves. Zim returned it with a wave just as nervous and small, before resuming his climb down the house. He entered his cloaked voot cruiser and zipped out of the neighborhood. Dib raced inside only to find Gaz already waiting for him.

“Gaz?” Dib spoke, surprised to see her standing there.

“Dad’s gonna be pissed when he finds out you ditched college.” She remarks simply enough.

Her tone is as gruff as usual. Anyone else would think she was angry, but Dib knew better. After all, she wouldn’t be grabbing his favorite notebooks and paranormal research notes and packing them up as neatly as she was if she was upset. Dib laughed as he stuffed his favorite Sasquatch plushie into his suitcase.

“It wasn’t exactly like he was happy before,” Dib reminded her, “You remember how he flipped when I said I was going into journalism and criminal investigation.”

“Instead of science.” She added, because of course she remembered.

“Yeah and when I told him that forensics _was_ science he tried to say he meant _real_ science.”

“Face it Dib,” Gaz remarked as she stuffed Dibs notes and old posters into his suitcase, “You’re his clone, so that means you have to be just like him. While for me, the gross squishy birth baby, it doesn’t matter what I do. You know, just to mess with him once I told him I was gonna be a prostitute. Wanna know what he said?”

“Let me guess,” Dib began.

The two said it at the same time,

“That’s great honey.” They said, in that deep emotionless voice of their Dads’.

The Membrane siblings laughed. Sure, it wasn’t funny in hindsight, but they were use to it. It was just nice to have someone understand.

“Yeah, ‘cause of course that’s what he said. It wasn’t even a recording that time so what was even the excuse, right?”

“I know! It’s like he wastes all of his time bothering me and he can’t even bother to listen to you. Dad sucks.”

“He does.” His sister agreed.

Dib let his hands linger on top of the suitcase. He… was finished packing. Just needed to zip it. Then he’d say good-bye. Of course he couldn’t say his farewells until his suitcase was zipped. That would be irresponsible.

Because he’d say good-bye and try to leave and all of the things they’d worked so hard to pack would spill all over the floor. Gaz would call him a moron and then he’d have to stay even longer just to repack all of his stuff. Because of course more time spent with Gaz, his sister and closest friend in the world, would be awful. Honestly just the worst.

“I’m moving out this summer.” Gaz informed him suddenly.

“Really?”

She nodded.

“Wow, at sixteen?” He questioned, his older brother instincts kicking in as he folded his arms.

“Hey you were seventeen!” She reminded him.

“And I had Zims’ house to stay at.” He reminded her, “Where are _you_ going to live?”

Gaz grunted, “I’ll figure it out.” As she turned to leave her brothers’ room.

Dib took a hold of his sisters arm as softly as he could, stopping her where she stood. Her head hung low and Dib frowned. Until suddenly his eyes lit up. He dug for his phone and shot Zim a quick text. Dib didn’t wait for the reply as he walked past his sister, still holding onto her arm as he guided her to her room.

“What are you doing?” She asked, trying as hard as she could to not sound choked up.

She always tried to be strong. That was just Gazs’ way.

“Do you really expect me to believe you’d go to space without your Game Slave 3D? Come on Gaz, I’m your brother. I know you’d kill Zim and me if we didn’t bring at least some of your games with you.”

She faltered in her steps, slagging behind her brother for a moment as she took in what he had said. Then suddenly, as he’d managed to find her handheld sitting on her desk, he could feel arms wrapping around him. He froze in place. Gaz had only hugged Dib a handful of times. In fact he could count the times on half a hand. He felt her there, longer than she’d ever hugged him, and before she could change her mind Dib grabbed her up and held on tight.

Even then she didn’t let go. He’d hold onto this fleeting moment and her, as long as he could.

“_I love you. I love you. I love you._” The voice of their father called from below.

Grimacing, Gaz pushed Dib away rolling her eyes.

“Right. Dinner.” She remembered.

A screen featuring their fathers face in a recording made years ago floated in the room shoving its Y/N key toward her. She promptly pressed the N key and the screen began to spark and fizzle.

“_Error_,” The screen proclaimed, “_input not probable. Input not probable. Input not probable_.”

Dibs eyes widened as he was quickly made aware of what was about to happen.

“I always wanted to see what it would do if you pressed no.” She remarked.

“Gaz get down!” Dib declared, dragging his sister under her bed.

The screen exploded suddenly. As the smoke cleared he was sure there was shrapnel littering the room. Once they were out from under the bed, Dib could see that he was right. Shreds of metal were stabbing about Gazs' walls, door, and some had even pierced through her mattress. Now Dib was pissed. He had his doubts before about bringing his sister with them before. He sure as hell didn’t now.

“Come on Gaz. Let’s get out of here.”

She was still in shock, but quickly recovered. They packed her things, grabbed their belongings and tossed them into the back of Dibs' car. He checked his phone just before they drove away.

“_I wanted to ask if she could come._”- IZ_overlord01

“_She is human friend number two._”- IZ_overlord01

“_Do not tell her this._”- IZ_overlord01

“_This phrasing displeases her._”- IZ_overlord01

Dib snickered at his phone.

“Friend number two,” He muttered.

“That better not be me he’s talking about.” Gaz remarked with a frown.

Dib laughed as he peeled out of the Membrane driveway like a bat out of hell. The drive soon fell into a comfortable silence as possibilities littered Dibs' brain. The drive took them closer and closer to Zims' base and the closer they got the more Dib began to take in just how little they had prepared for this. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and he gripped the steering wheel tighter. The para-scientist grinned from ear to ear in that way that always use to scare his dim-witted classmates, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. They were leaving, for good this time.

It was utterly terrifying, and that was what made it so exciting.

“Oh god,” Gaz cut in suddenly, “you should see yourself. You look so crazy right now.”

“Gaz, were about to go into a spaceship and leave Earth. Forever. Tell me that’s not a little crazy.” The older brother dared.

“It is.” She admitted, a faint smile on her lips. “It fucking is and I love it.”

Then they were there and Zim was already waiting for them standing out on the street, he and Gir both out of their costumes where anyone could see them. Some of the more nosy neighbors already had and began to gather at their front steps.

Dib brought his car to a screeching halt swerving slightly as he turned the wheel. Dib ran out of the car with his and his sisters things.

“Zim you’re- out! What about the neighbors?”

“What are these morons going to do about it?” The Irken replied, sounding just as jittery as Dib was. “I wanted to see their _stupid_ faces once they realized an alien was living among them! Though, I think some of them have already dialed for the police.”

“Uh,” Dib turned his head to the sound of sirens.

“Suppose that means we should go.” Zim quickly remarked, before scooping Gir up into his arms.

Zim darted towards the ship as he disarmed the cloak, reviling a massive purple ship, streaked with darts of Dibs favorite shade of blue. Dib wasted no time grappling his and Gazs’ things as he headed toward the ship, his sister following quickly behind him. The ship sealed itself off once they were aboard and Zim began preparations for take off.

“We’re gonna launch piggie into space! Yay!” Gir happily cried, bouncing up and down in the co-pilot's seat with said piggie plushie in his arms.

“Soon Gir,” Zim replied as he flipped various switches and made proper adjustments to the ship, preparing it for space travel, “But first, I think it’s time we said good-bye to the base.”

“Aw, okay.” He replied sadly at first, until bursting with, “Bye bye base! I’m gonna miss you!”

Dib and Gaz flooded to the front of the ship.

“This is it.” Dib remarked.

“No going back now.” Gaz reminded.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” Zim said, pulling out a remote with a single button on it.

One press and the base was gone. The house began to explode until the explosion pulled inward and vanished leaving nothing behind. Aside from the ground being disturbed there wasn’t a single trace that anyone had lived in the empty space, and Zim knew the same was true for the underground section as well. It was as if he was never there. All that remained was the four of them. Suddenly, there was a pinging sound coming from below that was dinging against the ships shields.

“That would be the police.” Dib commented, with a smirk.

He knew the shields were more than enough for such simple metal based bullets.

“Ugh,” Gaz groaned,“let's get out of here.”

“Agreed. Lets. Move along Gir, I need my co-pilot.” Zim instructed shooing the tiny robot away, despite his protests.

Dib quickly took the other seat and made his adjustments accordingly.

“Everything clear on your end?” The alien questioned, his hands at the ready on his steering wheel.

“Ready when you are,” The human replied, steadying his grip on his own wheel.

The ship hummed as it began to shake and in no time at all, they’d cleared Earths' atmosphere. The four sat among the stars now and it made Earths' night sky look like a joke in comparison. The ship was quiet as everyone held their breaths, wrapping their heads around the overwhelming freedom. What happened now? There was a whirring noise followed by a loud bursting pop. Everyone turned their heads to find Gir holding the stuffed remains of his piggie.

He quickly shoved the destroyed toy behind his back and tried to pretend nothing was there.

“Piggie didn’t go in the microwave.” The robot poorly lied.

There was silence still, until Zim broke it with a laugh. Small and even strained at first until suddenly he was throwing his head back, howling something ugly. Yet it was the happiest Dib had heard him laugh since he’d left for college and Dib couldn’t help himself from following along. Even Gaz who tried to hide it was snickering into her hand before a snort left her. It went quiet again but they couldn’t hold it long and soon everyone was laughing. Zim ran the auto pilot for the ship and set a course for the nearest inhabited planet.

Gir almost looked like he could cry as he waited for his punishment to come. It never did, instead replaced with a new piggie as the Irken handed the robot one of many spares he had stashed away.

“Let’s make sure this piggie doesn’t end up in the microwave, okay?” Zim requested as he handed the toy over.

“Okay!” Gir loudly replied, hugging his new beloved old friend.

“He’s gonna be a brat if you keep spoiling him Zim.” Gaz argued, booting up her game.

“Unfortunately for me he already is.” Zim relented, patting the robot on the head.

From behind, Zim had been grabbed up and swung around and who else could it have been but Dib. The Irken would pretend to hate it but honestly, tonight was just too much to worry about appearing respectable and collected. So he let himself enjoy being held by someone so unbearably tall. Even if he would just deny it later. He didn’t have to deny it right now. After all, this ship was only occupied by everyone who mattered, and no one else.

It was better than he’d imagined it would be, and for the first time in his life, Zim felt complete.


	2. Invader Dib

Middle School- 5th grade

The sun scorched violently in the sky sapping the life force of any and all who dared to challenge it by stepping outside. It was a miserable ninety nine degrees last Dib checked but he had to take the risk for the sake of the Earth! He was certain Zim wasn’t planning to cause any trouble today, but one could never be too sure. So, just in case during this awful summer heat Dib thought it would be best to keep an eye on his ultimate nemesis. From a safe distance. Those lawn gnome lasers hurt.

So far he’d been staking the aliens house for the past hour, and nothing had happened.

“Yet,” he was quick to remind himself.

His vision began to blur and haze, and he shook his head. He had to concentrate. Must. Not. Let. Zim. Win. Within no time at all, Dib was passed out on the sidewalk. Zim stepped out from his base soon after, regretting it immediately. He’d been watching the Dib-Stink for the past hour as well.

Zim had been imagining what horrors to his brilliant plans the filthy dirt child was plotting. Once he’d seen him pass out on the concrete however, Zim was made aware that he was only spying on him. The fool! To expose himself to the deadly Earth sun in it’s summer state. Even the foreign invader knew better than to fall prey to such foolishness. The mighty Irken solider could laugh, and so he did.

He laughed at the fool. Until he found himself bored and a little sweaty. He tapped his foot into the Dibs side, hoping to wake him up. How was he suppose to have fun belittling his mortal enemy if he wasn’t even conscious. Rude. The Dib-Beast was being very rude right now. Glowering at his enemys astronomical rudeness, Zim grabbed him by the pant leg and dragged him back to his base.

His guard gnomes didn’t approve of Zims guest, but a simple wave of his hand and they stood down. Once inside, Zim marveled at the gust of fresh cool air. What a horrible planet! He hadn’t experienced such miserable heat since his mistaken incarceration on Foodcourtia, and somehow this planet managed to be even worse! Just living here was exhausting. The sooner he conquered this world the sooner he’d be rid of it.

He briefly considered tying the human up, but dismissed the thought. It was far too hot to plot and scheme for the empire and he was certain his Tallest would be more than understanding. They were often the most understanding. After all, they were the ones that understood what a mistake it had been to send him to Foodcourtia. They were also the ones to promptly correct such a mistake, as he knew they would.

Zim walked to the kitchen and carefully filled a cup with the dreaded poisonous water. He then walked back to the human, still unconscious on the floor. A quick splash to the face and his foe had darted up in alarm.

“What the- Where-” He gained his barrings, “Zim!”

Dib pointed accusingly toward the alien in question, wearing his awful disguise.

“Yes, it is I _Zim_.” And as he said his name, the Irken dramatically curled his spine and fingers inward, “You’re greatest mortal foe and future overlord. Now off with you! It is too hot for this. Today.”

“Wait,” Dib began, “you’re asking me to leave. That’s it?”

“Yes now, AWAY WITH YOU! Filthy _human_! And such and- whatever.”

Zim marched to his couch, slumping back into the sofa as he flicked on the tv. Dib slid into view, blocking the screen.

“You can’t be serious!” He began, “You’re just going to leave me here in your secret invader lair with no security?”

“What are you crazy?” Zim questioned, not taking his eyes away from the screen Dib blocked as he flipped through various channels, “Of course I have security! So don’t even try to sneak off into the sub basement, Dib-Stink.”

Of course it wouldn’t be that easy. Still, he wasn’t being chased out of the base. Even if he couldn’t explore the lab, he could at least question the alien. Maybe Zim might confess to something big! If only he had his tape recorder. Zim had crushed it in their last battle and Dib was still waiting for the new one he ordered to come in the mail.

Sadly, it would be his word against Zims, and no one ever believed him. It was regrettable, but for the sake of science, he’d push forward. Just like his Dad had taught him to do. This was a chance to gain information while the enemy was down! Or well, slouching on the couch. Which was just as good.

Dib took a seat on the couch, much to the others lazy dismay, and dug out a notebook and pen from his coat pocket. He sat on his legs and hunched forward as he readied his pen and paper.

“Alright Zim. I have questions. And you are going to answer them!”

Zim knew he could give his nemesis the boot. There was a button on his tv remote for just such a thing and yet, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Days had gone by since the two had plotted against one another, due in no small part to this horrid summer heat. Zim had been left with infomercials as his only form of entertainment, and was completely bored. Still, he wasn’t nearly stupid enough to divulge his brilliantly kept secrets to his sworn enemy. The Irken mulled in thought a moment and came up with an idea that could possibly be entertaining.

“Never mind your questions Dib-Human. _I_ have a question for _you_!” The alien declared.

“Only if you answer my questions.” Dib interjected.

“Question.” Zim corrected.

“Alright sure, whatever. Question then.” Dib relented.

At least he could get something out of this. Though, the young para-scientists mind began to wander. Just what horrible awful question could this evil lizard of an alien ask of him? What terrors would he speak? What nightmare was he, a poor human, about to endure for the sake of the human race?

“How would you go about invading this planet?”

Dib paused a moment, stunned at the question. He’d expected something awful. Well it was still awful, but… in a more intriguing sort of way. Still, this was Zim he was talking to.

“You expect me to give you a detailed idea on how do destroy my planet? Why would I do that?” The human rightfully questioned.

“Please,” Zim scoffed, “as if any idea from that swollen head of yours would even be any good.”

“It’s not swollen,” Dib defended, “and I could _too_ come up with a great idea.”

“Then lets hear it,” The alien requested his eyes boredly gazing at the muted tv screen.

“Alright then, fine. Hmm… Now, let me think...”

Zim rolled his eyes, but other than that continued to flick through the channels on the television, without interest. Dib gave it some careful thought before settling on an idea.

“First thing I’d do, I guess, is go around the world ruining Earths’ vegetation. Then I’d poison the water sources to all of the major citys. Then I’d uh, I don’t know, go after all the world leaders that would eventually show up for a meeting at the United Nations and all of their second and thirds in command? The rest would sort itself out from there, I’d suppose. With no infrastructure to speak of the planet would be pretty easy to conquer.”

Zim sighed asking, “Really? That’s your grand plan?”

“It would work.” Dib pointed out.

Zim continued to focus on the tv as he spoke.

“You think I didn’t consider infrastructure take down first? Any invader worth their gorget knows how to sabotage from the inside. It’s the first lesson in invasion we’re taught as smeets. But it’s so boring. And lengthy.”

“Well how about if I were to dump oil in all the Earths' oceans?” Dib offered.

“Bigger,” Zim challenged, attention hardly lost from the screen.

“Steal the Earths' oceans.”

“Bigger!”

“I-I could-”

“Yes,”

He had to reach down. Really reach down and burrow into his frustrations. What if he were like Zim? Free to do whatever he wanted. He was smart. Dib knew he was smart. What if he applied that intelligence to do the most thing dastardly thing he could to his planet? What would he do?

“I-” and it came to him, “I would build a giant laser and cut out every continent on the planet, mash them back together and flip them upside down. Then I’d sink the cities of the world into the ocean like one massive puzzle!”

Finally, Zim stopped clicking across the channels. He turned his head toward Dib and a look like no other lit the Irkens eyes. The solider gazed at the para-scientist with utter awe. He could picture in his mind the scene as his foe hovered over the planet in a giant space craft, laughing manically.

“_Now _that_ is the sort of ingenuity and wit I expect of my greatest enemy._” The Irken declared in his thoughts.

Realizing his slip of unintended praise however, he reeled himself back and recovered his pride.

“Yes, I suppose that _might_ be adequate.” Zim admitted, and cursed himself silently.

He had wanted to commend Dib without actually commending him. That was difficult to do however when you _wanted_ to commend someone, and Zim simply couldn’t deny the genius of his enemys' idea. If only he had the budget for such a thing, but maybe he didn’t have to let Dib know that.

“I do have some thoughts,” The Irken elaborated.

Zim couldn’t help himself and soon enough he was spouting his own hypotheticals for conquest. Dib seemed to be just as focused on drawing up ideas as Zim was and the two traded off plans back and forth. A super sonic pulse gun here, a parasitic brain slug there, and all of it with the tv completely disregarded. Zim hated to admit it but he was having, fun? Was that even a thing he was capable of experiencing as an invader? Fun? He wasn’t sure.

Minuets stretched to hours with nothing but conversations of conquest and all of the various inventions either one of them could create to achieve their goals. Neither of them had known when it started, but soon their plans were beginning to merge. In one scheme, Zims' itching powder paired well when combined with Dibs' man eating plants. If you combined the cure for the itching powder with the spores of the man eating plants and there was a wide enough epidemic of itching spread throughout the world, then there could theoretically be a man eating plant in every home. It would even be humanity's fault for the man eating plant out break and no one would ever know.

Zim had only been made aware of the time when Gir and a loaded plate of hotdogs had sat down on the living room floor and unmuted the tv. The sound had startled the two from an in depth conversation about dark matter, causing the human to finally look up and see the clock.

“Has it really been three hours?” Dib stated in disbelief.

The Irken just shrugged his shoulders, and grunted an, “I don’t know,”

The para-scientist took the sheets of paper he had worked on, littered with diagrams and theorys and stuffed them into his coat pocket, along with his pen.

“I have to go home,” He explained, “Gaz will kill me if I don’t make dinner. It’s my turn tonight and Dad won’t let either of us do it when it’s not our turn.”

“Oh, I see.” The alien accepted feeling slightly awkward, for whatever reason.

“Yeah it’s weird.”

“This,” Zim stated to clarify.

“What? No, my Dad.” The human corrected.

“Ah,”

“No this was…” It seemed Dib wanted to find the right word for it and settled with, “fun.”

So he thought so too. Zim was relieved.

Dib trotted for the door. As he turned the knob the human looked back towards the alien, who stared at him wide curious eyes. The para-scientist stood still for second, as if in thought, before giving the tiniest of waves toward Zim. The Irken awkwardly waved back and watched as the para-scientist closed the door behind him.

“Wow!” Gir shouted after a brief silence, “Mary sure was here for a _looooonnnng_ time, huh Master? Why?”

Zim turned to Gir observing his plate of hotdogs only to realize they weren’t even actual hotdogs, but rather eclairs stuffed into hotdog buns.

“Gir, you aren’t eating correctly! Those eclairs are already wrapped in buns.”

It was crucial to their mission that Gir understood how to blend in and mistakes like this weren’t doing them any favors. That’s why it was far more important to correct his minion in this very important matter, and not to answer his silly questions.


	3. Rule the World in Style

Junior High- 7th Grade

“What do you mean the Stink-Beast isn’t here!? I demand to know his whereabouts Dib-Sister, _tell_ _me_!”

Gaz scowled at her phone from the doorway of her house as she tried to concentrate. Grinding an mmorpg was a simple enough task to do one handed normally, but with Zim bugging her she was starting losing focus. Gaz refused to let any of her clan-mates get the final blow of the Belrog boss after they’d done nothing but belittle her for the past two hours straight. She was the reason they’d even made it past the first fifty floors of the dungeon in the first place! That bonus loot would be _hers_. If it was the last thing she did.

“I meant what I said. Dib isn’t here. He went to some dumb haunted camp for spring break and he won’t be back until the break ends.”

“But that’s,” and Zim begins to count on his hands, “One whole week!? Zim does not have _time_ to wait!”

“So just take over the planet already and stop bothering me.” Gaz stated, shutting the front door behind her.

She locked it and began heading for the street. There were footsteps behind her soon after because of course, Zim was following her. Gaz just ignored him and continued walking to the mall. Her phone battery was about to fry, and while her phone was far from dying she wasn’t prepared to take any risks. Especially not when she was planning an all-nighter. Plus some snacks would be nice.

Zim hovered over Gazs’ shoulder, observing the screen with peaked interest.

“What game are you playing anyway?” He asked.

“World of Witchcraft,” She answered.

“Is it any good?”

“I guess. It was better before the last update. They broke my favorite weapon. It’s useless now.”

The alien continued to watch her screen with interest. Zim still knew next to nothing about human culture, so it surprised Gaz that he even knew what a video game was. She’d ask him, but she didn’t really care. Gaz ran for the Belrog and readied her sword to strike but was hit by the creature before she could dodge. The attack had been buffed beforehand causing her to take some considerable damage.

“How did _that_ cause you to lose half of your health!?” Zim shouted with disgust.

“It’s his stupid prayer beads. He’ll pray randomly to his dumb swamp goddess and she’ll either give him seventy points of health back or double his damage on the next attack. This whole game is broken.”

“Can you honestly be expected to win under these conditions?” Zim scowled, “What are your foolish teammates even doing? Doesn’t that one know the beast is immune to fire? It says so right there!”

Zim pointed to the screen indicating that yes, the holy flame sword that her teammate was using was in fact inflicting next to no damage.

“Hold on,” She says as she inserts an earbud into her ear. “Hey dumbass,” Gaz spoke towards the phone, “the monster’s fireproof. What are you doing?”

In a scratchy mic from the other end the she could hear, “I know that, you stupid kid! It’s for the piercing damage. It’s making sure he’s draining blood.”

“He has a talisman. Blood just makes him stronger.”

“Not if it’s his own blood.”

“Then why is he getting us down to half health with his weaker attacks?”

“You just suck, stop blaming the game.”

As he said this, he was hit with a tail whip and died.

Gaz could hear a series of expletives and keyboard smashing from the other end.

“And there goes Equinoxadiser_487,” One of the other players casually commented.

One by one the rest of her team crumbled. Gaz knew when she was beat and reluctantly used her last safe warp to exit the dungeon before the same could happen to her. The game saved automatically once the safe warp was used so Gaz angrily closed the game shoving the phone into her jacket pocket.

“Ugh, just great! Now I have to find another stupid group to join.” Gaz grumbled as she opened the doors to the mall.

When Zim was still tagging along she knew he wasn’t going to stop following her until she went home. Part of Zim and Dibs’ stupid truce. Stalking was fair game until they were in their bases. Stupid rule. Stupid Dib. It figures she’d have to babysit Dibs’ alien while he was away playing ghostbuster.

Well, if she was going to have to put up with him, he was at least going to make himself useful.

“Zim!” She declared, pointing to the Irken, “My stupid phone battery is broke.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” Zim questioned, annoyed that a human would dare speak so authoritatively towards him.

“Make yourself useful and fix it for me.” She commanded, pulling the busted battery out from her phone and shoving it his way.

He was startled at the primitive device that was so suddenly handed to him and glared at the girl.

“You dare order _Zim_ to do your bidding!?” He cried out dramatically, “Before I end your miserable Dirt-Monkey life for even _insulting_ the mighty _Zim_ by merely _suggesting_ I do manual labor for a disgusting _human_!- Why should I bother?”

The alien puffed up his chest and stood as tall as he could. It wasn’t much considering he was the same height as Gaz but he was certainly trying. Gaz boredly glared back at him, unfazed.

“I’ll have some spare money if I don’t have to buy a new battery, so if you fix it I’ll buy you stuff.”

That seemed to calm him down quite a bit actually, as the Irken entertained the thought of receiving free things. Zim looked over the battery unimpressed, before snatching Gazs’ phone away. He looked for a safe place to work, quickly found a bush to hide himself, and jumped in. A series of electrical sparks and drilling could be heard. Along with the occasional spider limb poking out of the bush until finally, Zim emerged from the shrub, with the last traces of a spider limb slipping back into his PAK. He held up the phone and tossed it like it was garbage back to Gaz.

“I’ve repaired the battery, upgraded the phone to have intergalactic signal, installed the last fifteen hundred backlogs of updates, and downloaded over three hundred different games.”

“Huh, cool.” Gaz responded looking the phone over.

“Now give to me this, _stuff, _you speak of.” Zim ordered, as he hunched his shoulders up and clawed his fingers greedily.

“...Okay,” She said, shrugging her shoulders.

Gaz walked to the first store she had in mind and stepped inside with Zim giddily following behind. Inside were mounds of snacks that had her stomach aching. It had been hours since she last ate, a fact she was startlingly becoming aware of. Gaz began snatching bags of chips, snack cakes, and candy bars and tossed them onto the counter. She noticed Zim behind her toting an armful of those gross Monkey Brain Dough Balls that he preceded to toss with just as much haphazardness as Gaz had.

“How can you eat this garbage?” Gaz questioned, picking one of them up to examine it.

It was quickly snatched from her hands and placed back onto the counter by an embarrassed Zim.

“Put that down, Dib-Sister. Smelly? Stink! It’s not for me. It’s for… it’s for Gir.”

“Alright. By the way you could just call me Gaz. It’d be a lot faster.” She remarked as she was handed her change.

“I knew that,” The Irken lied, “I was just… insulting you.”

Gaz walked out of the store, not caring either way what Zim called her. She opened one of the snack cakes she’d bought and stuffed it in her face. There was an immediate sense of relief in her gut and she could focus on wandering around the mall again. Zim had caught up to her, noticeably snack free. It reminded her that she should have brought her backpack with her. Having one built into your spine sounded like a great idea right about now, but she’d just have to press on without one.

They passed by the different windows of other shops, and somewhere along the way Gaz noticed that Zim had stopped. Considering he’d been following her this whole time she should have been relieved. Instead curiosity got the better of her, and she wanted to know what it was he’d found so interesting. He was hooked to a particular shop and something inside seemed to catch his eye. Once she caught up with him she peaked through the window and looked around. From what she could see nothing really stood out to her, so she followed his eyes.

Glancing up she could see the window mannequin. It wore a lilac sweater with black straps and a violet poof mini skirt covered in light blue roses. Gaz sneered at the bright fluffy thing and was about to mock it when she stopped herself. Zim had both of his hands pressed up against the glass, and looked completely mesmerized by the outfit. Something about that made her- _not_ want to make fun of him? It was weird.

She felt dumb for what she was about to do next, but decided, the hell with it. If anyone tried making fun of her for going into some frou frou shop she’d _make them pay_. Taking Zim by the arm she dragged him inside, to the others surprise.

“What is the meaning of this? Where are you taking me?” The Irken questioned, rather flustered.

“Inside the store idiot, so you can check out that dress.” She clarified.

“Eh!” He yelped, as she drug him towards the store.

Gaz pushed him inside and once he was through the doors he froze. He stood perfectly still as he looked at everyone in the store, as if waiting for something to happen. Gaz gave him a confused look, so he clarified.

“I cannot be in here.” Zim whispered.

“Why?” Gaz questioned.

“This is a _female_ store.” The Irken elaborated.

“So?”

“If the humans catch sight of a male entering a female store they will know I’m not human! Only an alien would make such a mistake!” He harshly whispered through his teeth.

It was then that Gaz realized- no one had ever really given Zim _the talk_ before. Like, any sort of _the talk, _and there were a lot of _talks_ these days. She internally groaned. Gaz was going to have to give Zim the gender talk. She didn’t want to just say he could wear whatever he wanted. He _could _and _should_ be allowed to do that, but then he’d go around thinking _all_ humans were okay with it and get confused if someone started harassing him.

Gaz didn’t want Zim to call her a liar, but at the same time she didn’t want to tell him not to dress how he wanted. This was really putting her on the spot.

“Okay,” She started, “If I explain something really stupid about humans, can I trust you to listen to what I’m saying and, like, ask questions or whatever if it doesn’t make sense to you?”

Zim nodded, still looking confused, but understanding that this was human education. That alone, Gaz knew would keep his focus. She took a breath in, then out and began.

“So you know about human gender right?” She started.

“I’ve studied your human biology, yes.” Zim replied.

“Cool, so throw that out the window while I explain this next part-”

Gaz went into detail explaining everything she knew. Some of it, surprisingly enough, Zim was already aware of. He just had different terms for it. Like neutral for non-binary, and alternatively assigned for transgender. He seemed to understand more than she gave him credit for. Which was fine by her. The less she had to lecture him about it, the better.

“So let me see if I understand this correctly.” He began, standing upright as he began to march, “I can wear whatever I want without ruining my flawless human disguise.”

She nodded and he continued marching back and fourth.

“And the only possible negative outcome is that human males might pass judgment on me because I am a male.”

“Yep.”

“But I’ll still look _human_?”

“Pretty much.”

Zims lips formed a tight line as he nervously gazed up at the skirt and sweater.

“So, you gonna try it on or what?” She questioned, as she walked toward it.

That alone seemed to startle the alien into freezing up again.

“I-… don’t know.” He replied.

This was a pretty big deal for him, she was aware. He looked like he wanted to bolt out of the store, but he fidgeted in place like he couldn’t. Deciding to take the reigns again, Gaz called one of the store clerks over.

“Yes?” The lady perkily addressed as she hopped over.

“We’d like to try that outfit over there,” Gaz remarked, pointing to the mannequin in the window.

“No problem at all, hon! Why, a skirt like that would look so cute on you! You could really do with a color other than all that black!” The woman elaborated.

Gaz clenched her fist, as she calmly said, “It’s for him.”

The store clerk took one look at the nervous wreck that was Zim, and the calm fury that was Gaz and said simply, “Sure it is dear. I’ll never tell.”

She gave an annoying wink gesture and Gaz grumbled, but said nothing of it. The faster this lady found the outfit in Zims’ size the faster they could get out of here. Gaz led the alien to the dressing room where the shop employee had managed to find an outfit in his size. Gaz would tell herself that and ignore the fact that it was slightly too loose for the Irken. Because this was for _Zim_ and that idiot better not be thinking she’d ever be caught _dead_ in something so, _cute_. Thankfully the skirt had buttons that allowed for a closer fit so they wouldn’t have to call the attendant up and further explain that this was for Zim.

Gaz waited outside of the changing room and could hear Zim shuffling about for awhile. Then it stopped. She was sure he had to be done by now, but she didn’t hear anything. Gaz knocked on the door.

“Come on,” She began, “don’t tell me you got stuck in the sweater.”

He was quiet on the other end, which was strange for the loud and annoying alien to be, and before she could say anything else, he cut in with,

“I don’t know if I should be doing this.”

Wow. Zim wanted something but he was having second thoughts about it? That was a first.

“I thought you did what you wanted.” Gaz remarked.

“I do!” Zim was quick to accept, “But, this is different.”

“How? She asked, sitting down on the floor.

Gaz leaned her back against the other changing room door and could see Zim’s boots awkwardly fretting about from where she sat.

“It’s...”

She waited. He seemed to want to say it, but he was stubborn. So was she.

“It’s?” Gaz goaded.

“I could face disciplinary action. My Tallest. I’m- sure they would not approve of… this.”

She wasn’t sure what to say. Gaz had no idea what the heck a tallest was. They sounded important enough, but still,

“What do you think?” She asked.

She could see from the way his legs moved he was taking in the outfit she had yet to see. All this quiet was driving her crazy, but finally he answered.

“It’s my favorite color.” He said. “And I like it. It looks… pleasing. To me.”

“That’s all that matters then.” Gaz said.

There was a click at the door, and Zim finally stepped out. Gaz looked up and examined the outfit. His shape took to the clothing rather well, and the colors didn’t look half bad on him. Green went well with purple and he definitely had the legs for a skirt. All and all, he looked good. Gaz stood to her feet, and dusted off her pants.

“So,” The Irken began, “how do I look?” He asked as he gestured his arms wide, giving Gaz a good view of the outfit.

“Hmm,” She mulled it over. “I hate it. I’d never wear something that puffy and cute.”

Zim had looked offended, until she added,

“It looks great on you. I just hate that style of clothing personally.”

“Oh… I see. Thank you. Zim appreciates your honesty. Gaz-Human.”

Close enough.

“Are we finding everything alri-” The clerk seemed to stop herself once she got a good look at Zim in the outfit.

“Yes, yes. All is good here. You may leave.” He said as he shooed her away with his hand.

She seemed so stunned to see Zim _was_ the one after all who had asked about the outfit that she just quietly listened and walked away.

“So you gonna change back?" Gaz asked, picking up her bags that she’d placed on the floor.

“Eh, I think I’ll leave it on. I must test to see what effects this clothing will have on an active human populated environment. For science.”

“If that’s what you’re going with, sure. Science. Let's just pay for it and get out of here.”

Gaz payed for the clothes and the two walked out of the store. They poked around the mall for a little while after that. Gaz ordered the two of them some drinks at a coffee shop. She took her coffee black with extra whip, while the alien took his hot chocolate with as much fudge and caramel drizzle as one medium cup could handle. By the time the two had stepped outside the sun was just beginning to set. Of course, Zim continued to follow Gaz as they made their way back to her street, but she didn’t mind it as much now.

Eventually, Gaz was back home. She had her snacks and fixed up phone in tow, and was ready for another late spring break night. Gaz opened the door, and tossed her snacks onto the couch.

“Weird. That wasn’t as awful as I thought it was going to be.” Gaz admitted.

“Yes,” Zim agreed, “how very unexpected.”

She wasn’t sure how to end their interaction, and shutting the door seemed like a good enough way to do it.

“Human,”

Gaz stopped.

“What?” She asked.

He seemed to hesitate, for a moment, but decided to say something anyway.

“The humans of your last clan were an embarrassment! If you wish to make another attempt at defeating the Belrog creature-… here is my username.” He said as he jotted it down on a scrap of paper with his spider arm. “Summon me sometime- if you wish.”

Zim took the tiny slip of paper from the PAK leg and handed it to Gaz. She took it and looked it over. It read, IZ_overlord01. Gaz opened her phone and showed Zim hers and waited for him to write it down.

“piggies1ayer_dem0nqueen,” The Irken mumbled as he wrote.

He tucked the paper with her username into his skirt pocket and walked away. Not so much as a goodbye from him as he left and Gaz was happy with that. As she debated on what to have for dinner her phone buzzed in her pocket. She flipped it open and sure enough, Zim had already sent her a party request. Gaz quickly accepted, decided on having a frozen pizza, and flopped down onto the couch. There was another message from Zim.

“_Through o__ur combined efforts, we __will __have no problem finding a suitable party to take down this creature. __And w__ith me on __your __team, you can consider this beast, destroyed._”- IZ_overlord01

Gaz wasn’t sure how the Irken was already a level twenty six dark mage but she didn’t care enough to question it. She had her favorite chips. Her extra whipped black coffee. Her speakers on blast set to her favorite metal playlist. All while in the next twenty minutes, she’d be eating pepperoni pizza. Everything was set for the rest of the night.

Time to see if Zim was as good as he was making himself out to be.

“_got a group __ready lets go kill this thing_”- piggies1ayer_dem0nqueen


	4. Missed You Too

The present-

They were still some ways away from their destination. A nearby galaxy known as the Otherwhere. Zim had never entered this galaxy before, so it was a mystery as to what sort of planets they would come across. He hadn’t thought to ask Dib what he hoped to find in the vast outer reaches of space. As for Zim, the thought of conquering an uninhibited planet felt like a good start. Although, now that he thought about it, did that breach the truce?

After giving it some thought, he reasoned that they had made their truce back on Earth. There was nothing in their verbal contract that stipulated he couldn’t conquer _other_ planets, now was there? However, he shook it from his mind. Who would he even be conquering it in the name of anyway. Himself? Zim didn’t want a planet; that was too much responsibility.

No, he was just fine with this. Gir finally hooked up to the ship on a long needed sleep mode. His friend Gaz passed out at the kitchen table with a game she had been playing still logged on. Followed by Dib, who was throwing a blanket and pillow her way as he urged her to the bed. Sleep ridden mumbles were exchanged between the two before the rough sound of plopped on springs carried from the back of the ship to the front where Zim was piloting. It would still be a few days until they landed on their destination, but that was fine. The Irken kept his focus on the stars, and let himself relax.

“Hey,”

He turned back to see a tired looking Dib taking his co-pilot seat.

“Isn’t it late?” The alien remarked, turning to give the human a reprimanding look.

“Can’t sleep.” He answered, while slumping back into his chair.

“Insomnia,” Zim declared.

Dib nodded.

“Yeah,” He said, cradling a hot drink in his hands, “I don’t think it’s happening tonight. I’m just too excited!”

“That’s not coffee you’re drinking, is it?” Zim questioned.

“Nope. It’s tea.” Dib clarified, as he took a sip.

“Which has a caffeine content of twenty-six milligrams per eight ounce cup.” The Irken informed.

“How do you know how much caffeine is in tea and not how to pronounce college?” The human asked with a playful smile.

Zim turned his attention back to the stars. There was a question he’d wanted to ask. An annoying little question he was going to ask wrong, because asking it how he wanted to would just put himself on the spot. It was frustrating to think he was letting this bother him. Why should it bother him? He wasn’t bothered.

“Zim?”

The aliens antennae twitched about defensively. Dib could read him so well. No human has ever- no. _No_ _one_ has ever understood him like Dib did. He was going to ask.

“_Why_ did you leave for college?”

He’d realized a little too late the sadness in his tone, and groaned internally. Did he have to sound so pathetic? Certainly he could do better than that.

“I mean-” He tried to correct, “you knew we were going to space. I could have benefited from some uh, assistance.”

The Irken chose not to speak further. He had been clear enough. When there wasn’t an immediate answer, Zim turned his head. It irked him, this… vulnerability of his. Where the para-scientist was involved.

“Zim,”

Dib regards the Irken so carefully and it’s difficult not to look at him when he gets that way. Says his name like that. Like it mattered to him how he said it. He was starting to grow nervous. Zim could hear him laugh softly and despite himself, he turned to see those tired eyes watching him. Glowing with a golden glimmer of amusement.

“Why didn’t _you_ call and tell me you were rebuilding the ship?” Dib asked, turning the question around on him.

“Uh,”

He should have known the clever human would turn this on him! At this rate he would discover his secret!

“Or were you trying to surprise me?”

He discovered his secret!

“I- was. Actually.” The alien was sheepishly forced to admit.

“So you’re upset that I left for college. Even though I would have to _had_ to leave anyway so you could build a giant spaceship without me knowing about it. So you could surprise me with it three months later?”

“Don’t question me Earth-Monkey!” Zim retorted as he pointed an accusing finger under the humans chin,“Just answer the question!”

The para-scientist gently brushed the others hand away, only for Zim to quickly grab at his coat instead. Dib smirked.

“You missed me.” He says in an accusingly, teasingly sing-songy tone.

Zim let his eyes drift away, carefully looking anywhere else. Dib placed his hand around the wrist taking a hold of him then lazily drifted it up the length of the Irkens’ arm. Tension Zim hadn’t even been aware of melted away at the touch and he began to relax. What was he upset about again? Something about… Dib? He couldn’t remember. He missed this.

Oh yeah.

“I’m mad at you, human.” The Irken boldly declared as soft as possible.

“Okay. Be mad then.” The human accepted, letting his hand cradle the others neck. “I’ll just be over here, making up for three whole months of this.”

He emphasized _this_ with his newly joined right hand, whose thumb brushed along Zims’ cheek, and the Irken shivered. Zim wasn’t sure why, but he was rather fond of their old touch experiment. A little _too_ fond perhaps, but why should that be a bad thing? It was what he wanted, and if Zim wanted it why shouldn’t he allow himself to enjoy it. Besides, Dib enjoyed their experiment too. The human was a friend now, and he could honestly think of no safer trust to have than with his closest ally.

Back on Irk, soldiers just didn’t do this. There were regulations against this sort of thing. Sure they’d get rough, they’d fight, among well- _other_ things, but where had _this_ been all his life?! The way Dib gently took a hold of his face, the softness of his touch. Zim was being handled like glass and if the Irken admitted he’d actually _missed_ that out loud his pride was bound to shatter. Honestly, he wasn’t sure how Dib got him like this.

There were things he could admit to himself that he never could before. That he isn’t always so confident. That he doesn’t always know what he’s doing. Or that he doesn’t know everything. He could even admit those things to Dib. Not all of those things, but a few. Every now and then.

Deciding to take some initiative, because clearly they weren’t reaching their destination any time soon, Zim stood up from the pilots seat and took a hold of the others arm. He decided to ignore his smile in favor of dragging Dib to his bed.

“I’m still mad.” The Irken reminded him.

“That’s a surprise,” Dib feigned, “but I can understand if you don’t want to do this anymore.”

“We are continuing this.” Zim proclaimed.

“Oh, darn.” The human feigned again. “That’s exactly what I _didn’t_ want to happen.”

Zim pushed Dib onto the humans bed and shoved him back against the wall to make room for himself.

“Your reverse psychology is lacking.” The alien criticized.

Zim wrapped his arms around Dib. Smothering his face into the others warm chest as his antenna pressed pleasantly down flat against his head. He’d learned during their culture exchange that humans had an average internal temperature of ninety-seven degrees. No wonder they were so warm. Good warm. So good against cold-blooded skin.

“Well, considering I was aiming for sarcasm I’d say it was a huge success.”

Zim could feel those massive hands of his cradling the back of his head, and the warmth of his fingertips had the alien sighing in relief.

“It’s hardly a success if you have to explain yourself, Dib.” The Irken continued to argue, not really feeling the heat of his own words, as he enjoyed the humans warm company instead.

“Mm-hmm,” The para-scientist lazily deliberated.

Instead of pressing the discussion further, Dib took one of Zims’ antennae and began to softly roll his thumb and index finger between the stalk.

“I missed you too.” He whispered as he laid his chin down onto the others head.

Dib somehow pulled Zim closer and the two seemed to sigh at the same time. From this angle the human couldn’t see him, so Zim let the soppy smile fighting to linger on his face stay. He figured it was alright. Dib may have included him with that incriminating “too” but, at least he said it first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one, but it felt pretty good, so I let it be


	5. Weird Lookin' Dog

Middle School- 4th grade

The sizzle of sparking flame to metal filled Zims’ lab as he worked. Unfortunately, he wasn’t working on one of his elaborate plans for global conquest as he would rather be doing. No, instead he was having to make general repairs on Gir. Again.

“Sit still Gir! I can’t reattach your arm if you keep moving.” The soldier grumbled, “And I’ve run out of straps to hold you down with.”

It was true. His minion was determined to keep Zim from welding the severed limb back into place. His excuse? He was missing his favorite show.

“It’s got a monkey, and he has a bat, and he’s gonna sing the birthday song today!” The tiny robot cried.

“He sings that- _stupid_ song- everyday! It’s- a part of the intro!” Zim struggled to say as he pinned the robot down. “What use- are you- to- me- if you’re- broken!”

Gir just wailed and struggled against the binds, refusing to sit still. Zim glared at nothing in particular as he was forced to listen to the minions noise, before just giving up. The Irken groaned as he undid the straps effectively freeing Gir from the table. The robot didn’t ask questions. He simply cheered and raced toward the living room. Zim grabbed his welding kit and begrudgingly followed.

When he made it back to ground level he found Gir slobishly enjoying a plate of reheated waffles. The solider regretted letting his minion keep those putrid goo coated squares in fridge and swore he would never eat human food for as long as he lived. Though it had shut the robot up at least. Such was the case with any human food. Even the dreaded meat. As long as it didn’t touch him, and kept Gir quiet, he would allow it.

Zim knelt down on the floor beside his minion and quickly got to work reattaching his arm.

“I love Mr. Monkey-Brain,” Gir said, absent minded as always.

The Irken sighed.

“I know you do.” He accepted.

***

Middle School- 6th grade

“Coming up next! Uh-oh, looks like there’s trouble in paradise.”

Zim sat comfortably against the couch.

“Martha get the bat! Looks like we’re headin’ for trouble.”

He wasn’t paying the screen too much mind.

“Is it them mutant moles again?”

Nestled comfortably in his lap was Gir, resting quietly as he recharged.

“Nope. Guess again!”

He had his hand laid on top of the minions head, petting the metal dome resting there.

“Don’t tell me _another_ zombie apocalypse just broke out!”

He wasn’t sure why he was doing it. It wasn’t as if Gir could feel it.

“Even worse!”

It was just comforting. Somehow.

“What could be worse than genetic abominations and the living dead?”

Whenever the other sat still like this, Zim naturally found himself doing it. Petting him, and giving little scratches into the back of his head that would make him giggle when he was awake.

“Your parents!”

At least doing this gave the impression of a boy spending time with his dog. On Earth, that was understandable. He wouldn’t have to explain why he was caring for the dumb robot to any human… he just wished he could explain it to himself.

***

High School- 8th grade

“Gross, wet, leaky, face.” Zim criticized as he furiously rubbed his eyes.

By this point he’d rubbed them raw and could feel the stinging burn each time he went to wipe his eyes, but he did it anyway. He was wasting his time here! So the Tallest destroyed his voot cruiser? So what!? All of this crying wasn’t going to build him a new ship. How was he going to convince them that they were wrong if he didn’t speak with them in person?!

He needed a _ship_ to meet them in person! That meant he needed to build a new one, not sit in his observation deck and _cry_. What sort of soldier cries!

“Master?”

Zim shot up suddenly, trying his best to collect himself. His eyes were puffy and swollen, and his cheeks were still smattered with wet streaks. Zim glared harshly toward his minion.

“I told you not to disturb me Gir.”

“I know,” The robot quietly noted, nervously digging his foot into the floor behind him.

“So why are you here?” The Irken grit through his teeth.

“Well, uh, your best friend came by and I told him what you told me to say and he’s gone now.”

“Dib isn’t my best friend Gir. He’s an acquaintance at best.”

“I didn’t say Dib,” The robot teased.

The Irken snarled in frustration and hurled a pillow at Gir. It hit him squarely in the face and he caught it soon after. Zim turned sharply away from his minion and folded his arms.

“Just leave me to my work.” He said, feeling exhausted.

“Aw, but master-”

“Go away.”

“I called the pizza man. You like pizza right? Huh? I got you the veggie one. That way you won’t die! I know you don’t like dying.”

“I’m not-”

“Aw come oooon!”

“No Gir.”

“But why? Why huh? Why? Why?”

Feeling the robot poking at his back repeatedly, Zim’s frustration boiled over, and he snapped. The Irken turned around to face the robot and stood from his station.

“For once, in all of your failed programming could you just _listen_ when I tell you something!”

“Master-”

“Instead of continuously disobeying me because you’re too _stupid_ to follow even the most _basic_ of directions.”

“But I-”

“Just _stop_. Stop being you! I-” He stopped himself when he could hear tiny sobs.

“… I’m sorry.” Gir muttered.

Gir ran off toward the elevator and Zim just stood by, watching him leave feeling completely dumbfounded. What did he just do? Why did he-? No. No, he shouldn’t feel bad. He was a perfect soldier. Soldiers of the Irken Empire didn’t empathize.

To not only understand but _feel_ someone else's emotions was- un-Irken. It completely went against everything he’d been taught. Zim was a good Irken. A loyal citizen. A soldier. Who’d been demoted to a fry-cook… permanently. Whose orders were to remain _banished _but- his Tallest were wrong!

He _was_ a solider and he’d prove it. He would!… he’d… Zim felt his body slump, as thoughts of guilt drowned out his patriotism. Maybe he did deserve to be banished. Because he had no excuse to neglect his blueprints. To be going upstairs. He had no excuse to walk up to the couch.

Or to sit next to his minion. There wasn’t a way Zim could think to explain why he’d felt awful when Gir flinched away from his hand, and nothing to explain the guilt that crawled up his spine when Gir accepted it soon after. Too loyal for his own good. Zim was crying again, but this time he wasn’t concerned with himself. The Irken scooped his tiny robot minion close.

“I’m sorry,”

He’d never said those words before. Zim wasn’t sure he’d ever say them again. His Tallest didn’t consider him a soldier. He didn’t know where to go from here. There was so much uncertainty to consider. The only thing he _was_ certain of, was that he was sorry.

He was so very sorry. He knew Gir had already forgiven him. Somehow, the thought alone made him feel worse. Zim would make it up to him. Even after Gir had forgotten the whole thing, Zim wouldn’t. For Girs’ sake, he’d keep making it up to him.

***

High School- 9th grade

Earth dirt tasted wretched. That was all Zim could think as he had his head forcefully shoved into the ground. Iron and grit pushed past his teeth and coated his tongue, making him gag. He’d been jumped by some teens from an older grade who apparently had nothing better to do than kick his chest in and shove his face into the dirt while he tried to regain his breathing.

“If you eat red dirt you go to hell! You’re gonna go to hell!”

It took every fiber of his being to keep his pak legs from sprouting out and defending him. Blending in with the enemy wasn’t easy most days. At least when it was Dib he hadn’t needed to pretend play helplessness, which meant less bruises. For now, he had to play the part of a normal human boy, and that meant he had to play the victim. He only hoped this would be over soon. That roar in the clouds didn’t bode well for him.

“Get away from my master!”

Zim looked up from the volley of kicks to see Gir, his red eyes glowing from behind his costume. The group kept their attention to the robot, but not as completely as Zim would have liked. He could tell from the hand that tightened onto the back of his head, and kept him pinned down. Zim still smiled anyway, knowing his ticket out had just arrived.

“The heck is that?” One of the hoard dumbly bellowed.

“Yes my min- er, I mean, _dog_. Attack these worm-bodies! Defend your master!” Zim sadistically declared.

“Yes sir!” The robot proclaimed seriously.

However once he pulled out of salute, the bot was back to his cheerful self. His little feet squeaked non-threateningly as he bounced towards the unruly pack of eleventh graders. He unzipped his suit ever so slightly as he fished for something inside his head. Once he had it, he presented it to the group.

“I gots a dough ball! You let my master go for a dough ball?”

“Gross! Did that dog just pull dough out of it’s brain?”

From the ground, Zim was wordlessly urging Gir not to give them away and reveal their secret, gesturing in every way he knew how for the robot to stop. He had to fight off the smile that wanted to splay across his face. It didn’t matter that Zim found it endearing- the little fool was going to blow their cover!

“Monkey keeps it in _his_ brain.” Gir tried to reason.

Suddenly, the unthinkable happened.

“Ugh, get away you weird lookin’ dog!”

Zim watched as his minion, as Gir was kicked harshly into a blue metal mailbox leaving a dent. He could hear him whimper before a faint buzz and pop of a crucial circuit snapped. The bot sparked and jolted for a moment before he stilled, the light dimming in his eyes. Zim watched him lie lifelessly there, wide-eyed, slack-jawed, and motionless, as he forgot to breathe.

“Gir,”

“Oh cool, rain! Shove his head in the mud!”

The one looming over him made to shove his head back down, but he stopped him. Zim held onto his arm and pried it away from his head and stood to his feet. There was muscle from the arm he held over head, but the former soldier could hardly feel the protests of it. The teen applied more force, but despite his every ounce of strength he couldn’t budge from where Zim held him. Zim lifted the junior and flung him like a rag into the pile of friends. He felt something scrape at his face for a moment but ignored it. The only thing he could see was Gir, and nothing was going to stop him from getting to him.

He took a step toward his robot only to have another bold rat from the hoard shout as he made his presence known. The shaggy haired teen wasn’t able to come too close however. Zim swept his legs out from under him with one of his own, and before he could think to get up and try again, the Irken kicked his teeth in. He passed him by with disinterest. Still, only keeping his focus on Gir. His eyes still wide as he didn’t even register anyone else.

In a battered mess they recoiled from the shock, and the group scattered away. Except for one. The one who’d shoved his head into the dirt in the first place. Zim could feel the shower of water pouring down on him, burning his exposed face. The dirt had chipped away his paste shield and left his skin sizzling as it was exposed to the polluted rain. The hefty teen approached him, and he paid him no mind.

Zim scooped Gir into his arms, clawing at the tiny metal frame to get him as close as physically possible. Words still felt so far away from his mind and the only thing that registered was, _protect_. It was the only word that made any sense to him at the moment. From the corner of his eye he could see a hand reaching toward not himself, but Gir. With a metallic hiss four sharp legs sprung from his pak, and pinned the offending hand to the ground. The owner of said hand began to babble something incoherent as he pointed between Zim's face and legs, but it was all nonsense to him.

The teen was tossed into the mud, and quickly forgotten. Racing down the street with his pak legs, Zim paid no mind as they pierced through various cars that littered the suburbia. He just ran. No thinking. No reasoning. Just running. Wherever they were going. They would be there soon. The rain was bad for Gir Zim remembered, as he tucked him in closer to his chest.

If Zim were in his right mind, he would have recognized the street he was racing toward. The familiar house he frequented so often. With splattered paint stains along the walk way he and Gaz made years ago, and Dibs' muddy boots resting beside the door. He held onto Gir with one arm and pounded on the door with the other.

“I know it’s you Zim, and no I’m not letting you in after what you did today.”

There was no registering the words, or who’d said them. The only thing he could do to keep himself from falling apart was banging on that damned door. However, the very idea of it not opening had his eyes sting, and slowly he was becoming aware of where he’d fled off too.

“Okay, alright! I’m unlocking the door. Just stop trying to break it! You know my Dad will kill me if I let the house get destroyed again.”

By the time Dib opened the door Zim had regained enough of himself to be able to look the other in the eye, though it was honestly _all_ he could do. He felt frozen to the spot. The other seemed to forgo his anger with panic and was immediately drawing the Irken in. Dib tried to take him by the arms but was met with an otherworldly hiss. The human quickly removed his hands from his arms in favor of guiding the alien in by his pak legs. Zim accepted this as more and more of himself came back to life.

Dib guided him to the couch and immediately fished out a nearby med-kit. The para-scientist took out a bottle of solution meant to treat the Irkens' water related burns and dabbed it onto his face gently with a cotton ball. He took Zims' face carefully into his hand as he applied the solution to the more afflicted areas of his skin, looking less like burns and more like acidic melting. The solution worked as it was supposed to however, and began regrowing the patches of lost skin. Zim blinked and willed away his absent minded numbness, as he pushed Dibs’ hand away.

“I’m not done yet. Don’t be so stubborn, Zim”

“No. Fine. Him. Now.” He managed, finally able to bare parting with his beloved minion as he thrust the small robot into Dibs' arms.

Dib carefully scooped the tiny bot to his chest. He looked like he wanted to ask something, but held off.

“Okay.” The human said instead. “Do you know what he needs?”

The Irken had his head clawed furiously in his hands, as his pak legs dug into his shoulders.

“Broken circuit board. No spare. No contact with Irk. No response anyway. No knowledge of Earth equivalent. No one else. Need assistance. Need you.” He listed, eyes wide and vacant as they bored into the floor of the Membrane residence.

Dib cradled Gir in his arms carefully.

“I think I have one that should work on Gir. J-just hold on okay. He’s going to be alright, I promise. You just take him, and I’ll go find-”

Zim shook his head almost violently.

“No I- need to be… _here_. Can’t when he’s- when he’s like-”

Dib didn’t let him finish. Zim was almost grateful.

“I understand. I’ll be back. Just- um, it’s going to be alright now. Wait here.” He finished, before racing off up the stairs.

“What happened to Gir?!”

It was Gaz. Zim didn’t need to look, and that was fine with him. He was rather drawn to the floor at the moment.

“Dib I swear to god if this is your fault-”

“Of course this isn’t my fault! You think _I_ would ever let something like this happen to him I would _never_\- You know what. I don’t have time to explain.”

“Dib,”

“Zim’s downstairs. See if you can get him to talk. I think he’s about to loose it again. I need to fix Gir.”

“Not until you tell me-”

“I don’t know! Just talk to Zim. Please, Gaz.”

He didn’t hear anything for a while. Barely noticed the dip in the couch next to him.

“Hey,” Gaz awkwardly tried.

Zim didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t.

He could see her fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket. He tried to focus on that. Hoping it would help and it did, somewhat. At least it kept his focus on the room. That he was here. They were here with the Membranes' and that meant he was safe. That Gir was safe.

“You fuck em’ up.”

Zim nodded.

“Good.” She affirmed, slowly hovering her arm over the others' back.

When his pak legs remained uninterested with the human limb, Gaz let her hand fall to the Irkens' shoulder. He seemed to still then. She watched as Zim slowly lifted his head back up from the floor. Gaz grabbed his chin suddenly, and he let her.

“Whoa!” She began, “What happened to your other contact lens? They didn’t see you without it did they?”

Zim shrugged. Honestly, at this point, who would even believe them? He knew it was careless, but he just didn’t have the energy to care at the moment. Gaz rolled her eyes and groaned. She continued to hold his face, far more roughly than Dib had, and looked him over.

“Ugh, damn it Dib. So sloppy. Come here.”

Zim listened. What else could he do at this point anyway? Gaz grabbed for the solution and a fresh ball of cotton and quickly got to work patching up the rest of his skin. He could feel each harsh tug of his face. Along with the more present burning sensation of the solution on his skin. Any other time the rough treatment would have been annoying.

Now however, it was greatly appreciated as the feeling brought him out of himself and back to the world around him. She seemed to look him over. To really look him over, and when she seemed sure he was staring back at her, she sighed. Feeling relieved. Gaz tossed the used cotton into a nearby wastebasket, then flopped back down into the sofa. All was quiet, but that was what Zim had come to expect from the Gaz-Human before she blurted something rude.

“What did you do?” Gaz eventually asks him, accusingly.

“I didn’t do anything!” Zim defended.

“And that’s why you look fucked up?”

“I appear “fucked up” as you insist on describing it, because I was attempting to blend in. Human juniors attacked me. As a freshman, I am meant to appear helpless.”

“So you let a bunch of guys beat you up? Really?”

“Defending myself eight to one would have… stood out greatly.”

“You didn’t seem to care about that when they managed to rip out one of your contacts.”

“I didn’t care about anything by that point. Not after they’d…”

His sentence fell then. Gaz didn’t make him finish. She just continued rubbing circles into the Irkens’ back.

“Dib’s gonna to fix him back up.” Gaz reassured.

“I know.”

“It’ll be awhile.”

“I know.”

“You gonna be… okay?”

He thought about it for a moment, before shaking his head. He smiled despite himself. Zim wondered if the human could understand him. He sure as hell couldn’t understand himself. Gaz slung an arm around one shoulder as she pressed her cheek into the other and the two of them sat like that for the longest time in silence. Guess she did understand.

Once it had gotten late he was given a blanket, his favorite one covered with glow in the dark flying saucers, and a pillow. Gaz made sure he took off the rest of his disguise before she turned off the lights. Zim sat quietly, as he stared up at the ceiling. Irkens didn’t sleep, but exhaustion said otherwise. Zim didn’t want to, but he couldn’t fight it. His pak had him shutting down and he fell into a restless sleep.

It was hours later that he registered a sizzling noise and he jerked awake. Zim flung the covers off of himself and scanned the room. He didn’t see anything. Though he could certainly smell it. He flew toward the kitchen tripping over himself a couple of times in the process, and there he was. Cooking breakfast like nothing had even happened.

“Hello master! Look it! I’m makin’ burritos! It says they’re for breakfast! I knew you could eat burritos for breakfast!”

“Gir!” Zim scooped up his beloved minion into his arms.

His pak legs joined into the embrace squeezing the robot dangerously close to the Irken.

“Yay! I’m gonna explode!” The robot cheered.

Realizing that was Girs' way of letting him know he was holding him too tight, Zim loosened his grip, and gazed at his pak limbs with surprise. He hadn’t even noticed they’d sprung out.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Gaz shoved the two reuniting aliens aside, “Watch the stove! Or do you want to burn the house down?”

“Sorry lady.” The robot apologized, with pouty puppy dog eyes.

She glared at Gir for a moment as she turned off the stove, and pointed an accusing finger at him.

“How dare you be cute after trying to set my kitchen on fire. That’s not fair.”

“Excellent work on exploiting the enemy's weakness, Gir.” Zim commended, cradling his robot and affectionately patting his head.

Gir ate up the attention like it was candy as he basked in the praise.

“He is so spoiled.” She commented, before taking the frozen burritos Gir had tried to fry on the stove and plating them properly in the microwave instead.

“I’d say he’s more than earned it, haven’t you Gir?” The alien defended.

“I died!” Gir loudly proclaimed.

“He _died_.” Zim agreed.

“Eh,” Gaz shrugged her shoulders, before adding, “fair enough, I guess.”

Gir hopped away from Zims' arms to observe his burritos more closely from Gazs' shoulder. He’d wanted to take him back but allowed for some distance. Gir was… fine. He was safe, and Zim had to thank the one responsible. The alien unceremoniously stepped away from the kitchen, just as Gir began a never ending round of, “is it done yet?” and headed upstairs. Up to Dibs’ room.

He knew he’d be asleep. Though Zim assumed the human would be in bed. Not at his desk. Zim nudged the other awake, causing Dib to jump up. There was a wet mess at his mouth that he quickly wiped away, before he turned his attention to Zim.

“I’m awake! I’m...” Dib began to doze off again.

Zim nudged the human again, a little more forcefully this time. Dib shot back up grabbing a glass of a dark drink near him. The para-scientist made to drink it before Zim snatched the mug from his hands.

“No more coffee for you.” He said, dumping the drink into a nearby plant.

Dib would have glared, but Dib was more of a pouter when he was tired.

“Nooo, Zimmm!” The other weakly protested.

“I realize I shouldn’t have woken you up, considering how difficult it is for you to sleep.” The Irken remarked, “I just had to thank you. As soon as I could. So, um- thank you. For saving Gir.”

The human bleary blinked up at him and Zim was worried Dib might be too tired to register what he was saying. Then without warning, he felt his midsection wrapped up in a hug. The alien felt his face burn as Dibs' own face was pressed and rubbed into his waist.

“So-kay, _Ziiiimm_. Ha-py tmmh help.” The para-scientist tiredly mumbled into his stomach.

He could feel his spooch pounding in his chest, as he very nearly forgot how to breathe. Zim had nearly forgotten about “Tired Dib”. The human was quite stupid when he was tired. He didn’t forget last time and he still didn’t know what to do with _that_ information. Zim pushed the human away from him, lifted him up, and tossed him into his bed.

“Well-like-I-said-,-thanks-again-,-much-appreciated-,-get-plenty-of-sleep-,-drink-something-other-than-coffee-,-and-_BYE_!” The Irken shouted with record speed as he tossed just about every blanket, pillow, and stuffed plushie the human had his way.

Zim could hear Dib snoring within moments and took that as his cue to leave. Once Zim announced they were leaving, Gir stuffed the two burritos into his mouth and ran away.

“One of those was mine.” Gaz remarked to herself.

“Thanks again, see you at school!”

“Was Dib being weird with you again?” She guessed.

“No!” He answered a little too quickly.

She glared suspiciously at him, before losing interest.

“Whatever. You’re still logging on later, right?”

He nodded. That seemed to please her and she said nothing further. She was already logged on herself, from the looks of it. He’d join her. Later.

“We gonna go home, Master?” Came a voice from beside him.

Zim smiled, patting the top of the robots' head.

“Yes Gir. Let's go back home.”

“Yay!”

Zim took his hand. He didn’t care if humans found it weird. He didn’t care if anyone found it weird. He wasn’t about to let that tiny hand go anytime soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can't say I don't make up for shorter chapters, huh?


	6. Strange Sensations (part 1)

High School- 9th Grade

It was another weekend where nothing was happening. The two other worldly minds were splayed out on the para-scientists bed. Dib leaned his back against the wall, his legs hung off the sides of his bed, as he read a comic. Zim sat cross legged against the headboard, reading some sort of Irken book. Feeling stiff from sitting up straight for so long, the human adjusted himself by leaning forward and lowering his comic. The other paid this no mind, that is until Dib turned the page.

There was the slightest brush as the humans knuckles brushed his leg and Zim jumped at the unfamiliar feeling. He starred at the other, who seemed unaware of any strange on-goings. When the para-scientist continued to keep his undivided attention towards his comic, the alien decided maybe he’d imagined it. No one would do that on accident. Still, he kept his eyes glued to his hand. It was hard not to notice how close it was now.

Zims focus would shift frequently from then. He’d stare at his leg, then at Dibs’ hand which was really just _right there_, as he waited for something to happen. The Irken would take a second or two to glance back at his book before he was watching between the hand and his leg all over again. Dib turned to a new page and it happened again.

“I knew it!” The Irken declared, triumphantly, “You _are_ doing that on purpose! Why are you doing _that_?”

It took a moment for Dib to recover from the shock of Zim suddenly standing up in his bed, but once he had, his question left him confused.

“_That’s_ an oddly vague question.” The para-scientist clarified.

“You know what I’m speaking of, Dib! Don’t act unaware of your own body's actions!”

When the other still looked clueless Zim tried to clarify.

“What you did with your hand. And my leg. Just now. You know… um…_that_.”

Despite his height from standing on the bed, the Irken began to tuck his shoulders in, effectively making him somehow look even smaller than he normally did.

“Oh… uh, _oh_. Yeah, sorry about that Zim. I wasn’t really paying attention. It wasn’t on purpose, or anything.”

“You mean you touched me, _accidentally_?” Zim drawled out slowly, seeming confused by the idea of it.

“Yeah, again, I’m sorry. I can just move. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable I-”

“How could you be unaware of touching someone?” Zim asked, as he plummeted back down into the bed.

“Huh? What do you mean?”

“I _mean_, doesn’t it alarm you to notice a presence that isn’t your own?”

Dib thought about it.

“It can, yeah.” He concluded after a moment, “If it was someone I didn’t know.”

“So,” Zim noted, gesturing between the two of them.

“I don’t know.” The human answered, “Guess I’ve gotten comfortable around you. I mean I trust you, obviously so it just comes naturally. I don’t really think about it.”

Trust. Zim sat on that thought, let the concept of it mull around in his mind. He came to the conclusion that he liked this, trust. Considering it was the first he’d ever heard of it being directed his way. There had to be a way to commemorate this occasion. Something he could do. A thought came to mind, one that sent chills down his spine. He didn’t favor it, but he had to show his good will towards his ally somehow, right?

Zim lifted his arm above his head, and before Dib could question what he was doing, he dropped it down and clasped the others shoulder. The para-scientist looked questionably between the Irkens’ wide grin and his arm but said nothing, as he waited to see what the other was up to.

“I trust you as well, Dib Membrane.” The alien declared.

Dib went still at first not entirely sure of what was happening, but realized soon enough this was Zims’ way of trying to understand him. He was able to let the tension in this shoulders go and relaxed, allowing the Irkens’ hand linger there. He had that wary rare smile of his the human liked so much, and Dib decided he’d let the alien have his moment.

“Uh, okay. Glad we established that.”

“Yes, yes. This is good.”

“...”

“...”

That moment was beginning to last a lot longer than Dib thought it would.

“Zim,”

“Yes, human?”

“You can let go of my shoulder now.”

“Oh,” The Irken realized, suddenly lifting his hand away, “right.”

It was strange. He’d been dreading touching the other just moments ago. How did he not notice he was lingering there? Was this trust affecting him now, too? Dib laughed, and the awkward feeling went away. Zim let himself relax.

Somehow the mood was less strained and it felt okay for the moment pass. Still, the alien was left to wonder why he wanted to reach out again. Or better yet, what there even was to gain from it.

***

It happened again on a movie night. Again, this was at the humans’ residence. Zim would swear it was because real human houses were furnished with so many places to sit. It was as if they were plotting for these touches to happen. A conspiracy in the making! The Irken would have to take thorough notes on this phenomenon.

Zim stopped watching the robotic chicken program as soon as Dib touched him and studied the para-scientist intently. Currently, he was amused with the show as a candy bear cried out in pain. At any other occasion the Irken would have been laughing right along side Dib at the pitiful creatures wails of agony, but he found himself distracted by his fingers. They kept to their side but occasionally, like they were doing just now, they would brush against his hand. Zim would have called him out on it like he did before, but the human was right. He really wasn’t doing it on purpose.

It left him curious, and if there was one thing Zim couldn’t stand, it was an insatiable curiosity. He moved his left hand using his pinky and scooched it closer towards the humans right. Though of course Dib had to make things difficult even _sub_consciously, as he saw fit then and there to move his hand away. The Irken glowered at the unknowing appendage, as if it should have somehow known his intent and _it_ was the one being rude. Deciding he’d had enough of patience for one day, Zim declared,

“_The hell with it,_” As the human had taught him to phrase it, and snatched the grubby hand up anyway.

It was immediately pried away from him, much to his annoyance, by a red faced and flustered looking Dib.

“Hey, w-what are you trying to do Zim? What was that?!” He asked belligerently.

“What do you mean, “_what is that_?”? I was obviously trying to take your hand.” The Irken defended.

“Why?” The para-scientist questioned accusingly, “What do you want with my hand?”

“I dunno.” The alien grunted, a little frustrated, “I just want it? For some reason.”

The human seemed to study him for a bit, and Zim wanted to know what he was thinking. His antennae twitched curiously as the other dwelled in his thoughts. Dib seemed to strike at something suddenly, his eyes lighting up before he asked his next question.

“Wait. You were really freaked out by me touching your leg last week, right?”

Zim nodded along, and let the human continue to process his observations.

“With that kind of reaction- you’re not gonna tell me that touch and things like that were coded out of your paks, are you? And that you’re fighting against it now? O-or that your paks keep you from feeling love or any sort of emotions? Your pak isn’t suppressing your free will, is it?!”

“What?” Zim couldn’t help but snicker at that.

What kind of dark sci-fy world had the para-scientist created in his head? Well, aside from, _that_ world. That world was never to be mentioned again. Zim noted to himself that he’d have to have the human elaborate on his theories about his pak later. For now, Dib seemed genuinely concerned for his well being, and while it was thoughtful, Zim thought it best to correct him.

“No, no! Nothing like that is happening with my pak, I can assure you. It’s designed to protect me, identify my occupation, and store my excess telegraphed data. That is all.”

The human accepted the answer, with a relieved sigh.

“That’s good. I’d be a little concerning if the thing you _needed_ to live was also technically not letting you live. If that makes since?”

“Fret not Dib, that’s not the case. My pak has no say in my actions.” Zim clarified further, “Though these touchy things _have_ been forbidden by decree of the Tallest.”

“What? Why?” Dib nearly shouted, sounding upset.

Zim hadn’t expected that sort of reaction and simply shrugged his shoulders.

“How should I know? It wasn’t _my_ place to question them.” The Irken answered.

It was true. He remembered the day now that the subject bore relevance. Everyone had been gathered together at the Massive. Just like with any important announcement. He had been in his ship, like many invaders at the time. Just hook yourself up to station and listen to the announcement, and then you could leave.

The two had ranted on and on about how weird they thought affection was. He remembered Tallest Purples' description of it best.

“_It’s weird,_” He’d said through mouthfuls of chips. “_and gross._” He finished with a wash of soda.

“_Yeah,_” Red had elaborated, “_so if we catch you snuggling on our time-_”

“_Which is all the time!_” Purple had interrupted.

“_Right. __So if you’re caught w__e’ll uh,_”

“_We’ll send you Qubnar-2! And let giant __two-headed __snakes eat you!_” Purple interrupted again.

“_Yeah, giant snakes. And they just love to eat tiny Irkens. So none of that er, touching or sweet stuff. Ever again._”

“_Especially hand holding! It’s gross. I don’t like it! You better not do it._”

“_You hear that. He doesn’t like hand holding. So don’t do it._”

Zim had thought nothing of it. Just another order. He’d never been close to anyone before. If anything, people were more than happy to keep him as far from arms length as possible. At the time, he’d been quite proud of the fact that unwittingly, he’d never once broken the Tallests’ sudden new rule. That was then, and the thought of going back to being _that_ Zim, _obedient_ Zim had him recoiling.

“_You’re your own Irken now. You do what you want to do._” He reassured himself.

A mischievous grin settled on his face.

“But that’s what makes this so exciting!” Zim continued, sitting up on his knees, as he shifted closer. “Just think of it! _I_ defector Zim, breaking one of the most taboo rules in Irken society! I can just imagine the look on Purples face if he were to see me holding a _hand_! His squidilly spooch would burst with acid at the sight!”

“One, does that mean you pump acid through your veins or was I totally wrong about your spooch being like my heart? And two, Zim,” Dib grabbed the Irkens' shoulders and Zim startled at the hold, his very spooch in question hammering in his chest. “What are you really asking me?”

Something about that question felt difficult to answer. He wasn’t sure what exactly he was asking himself. Zim knew it should feel weird to have his shoulders touched, but it didn’t. He honestly enjoyed it, now that he knew it was safe. So he decided to mirror it. He watched the others face flush, and observed the reaction with interest.

“The red that’s rushing to your cheeks. Your blood is causing that change in coloration, correct?” The alien noted, curiously.

Honey golden eyes frantically looked anywhere else but toward Zims’ own, and that just further intrigued him.

“Y-you’re blushing too!”

“B-_lush_-ing? What is, b-_lush_-ing?”

“Here,” The para-scientist grabbed his own hand and placed it on his face, “see, you’re doing it too.”

He could feel a coolness there. Zim wasn’t aware that Irkens could do that with their blood. Interesting. Dib seemed to think so too.

“Whoa,” He remarked, momentarily forgetting his nervousness in place of curiosity, “It feels cold.”

Dib unwittingly brushed Zims' hand away with his own touching and examining the aliens cheek with careful attention, making little mental notes along the way. Zim wasn’t about to be the only test subject here, and had wanted to know why the human was surprised at the cool touch of his skin. Certainly Dibs' would be the same. The Irken reached his hand toward the para-scientists' face and felt it with his gloved hand. He thought to remove it for a moment to get a better feel, but quickly realized he didn’t need to. The difference was immediate, and he could feel the warmth seeping through his glove.

“Why is your blood warm?” The Irken questioned, taking the humans' face with both hands.

“Um, I think it has something to do with keeping my body temperature constant.”

Zim seemed satisfied with the answer, and simply hummed his approval of this new discovery.

“What about you? Do you know why Irkens are cold-blooded?”

“Our species shares many similarity's to your Earths… geckos? Is that the right type of lizard?”

“Bug eyed and cute? Sounds about right.-” The human clamped both of his hands over his mouth.

“Yes,” Zim agreed, “that describes them well. Anyway, like most species of your geckos, my people regulate their body temperatures to suit our environments. Allowing us to be the perfect invaders. Or well, defector in my case. However, my point still stands.”

Dib recovered from his odd mouth hiding reaction, and seemed to steady himself.

“Okay.” He began, “I have an idea. It’s probably going to sound crazy, but when is that new territory for me?”

“You are quite crazy. I should know.” Zim attested.

“Not helping, space boy!” The human proclaimed.

“I thought being truthful was supposed to be very helpful.” The alien defended.

“Yeah okay well, it’s still mean. Just let me finish.”

Zim used the two hands up gesture that Gaz had taught him. When, the para-scientist relaxed, the Irken did too. Considering what happened the last time he used a gesture he’d learned from Gaz it was good to know this wasn’t another flipping of the birds situation.

“I think we should… conduct an experiment?”

Alien antennae shot up, twitching excitedly.

“What sort of experiment?” The alien inquired, with interest.

Dib leaned in close, and pointed his finger as he spoke, “No judging. No making it weird. Just you and me, learning about each other...s species.”

“Hmm,” Zim pondered for second.

The human had been nervous since the very idea of this exchange began. Zim was certain it was already weird. That was what interested him in the first place. However, he didn’t mind this phrasing. He was certain Dib had noted it for his sake. Which was fine, if that meant he could learn about humans up close, why not?

Deciding to test this experiment, Zim took a hold of the others face with both hands. The reaction was the same, bewildered, with the blood flushing right back up to his cheeks. Dib kept still, letting him observe.

“S-so,” The para-scientist inquired after some silence, “what do you say?”

Zim perked up, smiling with eager fascination to be studying this new human curiosity. He shifted one of his hands to take a hold of Dibs' chin, pulling him closer. Zim could hear a hitch in his breath. Yet another thing to file away for later.

“I say let’s start with this recent stammering of yours. I want to know what’s causing it.”

How could his face manage to flush with even more blood? That would have to be his next question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part one. This chapter was a heckin big boi! I feel dead. Hope you enjoyed it!


	7. Strange Sensations (part 2)

Zim had been spending his weekends at Dibs' and it made the para-scientist feel like he was caught in a daze. Here was Zim sitting on his couch, and Dib was just _allowed_ to throw his legs over top the others. It wasn’t as if there wasn’t room. There was plenty of space on the table for Dib to heap his legs there, but he didn’t. He had them strung over the aliens as he laid down, completely taking over the couch. Somehow they managed to made _this_ their new normal.

He felt comfortable. Felt that way over the past four months. Of course, it did take some getting use to. Unfortunately for Dib, the first couple of weeks had been the weirdest of his life. Zim had no qualms about embarrassing the teen in public. Sure, the human had said, “anytime you’re curious,” but he didn’t know Zim would be so literal about it!

The alien would usually take his hand without a second thought if the two of them happened to be walking side by side together. Dib was pretty sure the smile he liked to wear on those occasions was feigned innocence. He knew the Irken too well to be deceived that easily. That asshole knew it made Dib nervous to have everyone in school watching them though by now, he didn’t care. He’d been bullied before over his “crush” on Zim, and that wasn’t about to stop anytime soon. That’s just what you could expect out of a small minded town.

It gave him ideas of what he could do to _really_ get under their skin, but kissing Zim in front of everyone just to prove his school yard dominance didn’t feel like the right approach. Furthermore, it implied that he _wanted_ to do that. Which was very clearly _not_ the case. Dib was a para-scientist. A professional. Their touching experiment was being conducted in the name of science, and nothing further.

Even if he did find it cute how Zim would announce to anyone in a given room that he was, _his_ Dib.

“_No! Wait. I don’t find that cute!_” He protested from his thoughts, “_It’s, er, fascinating. That’s the cold, harsh, scientific way of describing it. Fascinating. __And n__ot cute. __Ugh, h__ow does Dad make detachment look so easy?_”

“Alright boys,” Speaking of the man himself, “That’s certainly enough television for the both of you for one night.”

The two were shooed away from their comfortable spot on the couch in favor of Gaz and the professor taking their place.

“Finally, I thought Dib was gonna be glued there forever.”

Dib wanted to protest, but held off. Gaz hated watching the news. If she was putting up with something as boring as that, it probably meant she wanted to talk to their Dad. Her quick serious glance his way confirmed as much, and Dib took the hint.

“Okay, fine. Come on Zim. Let’s go to my room.”

Dib hurried up the stairs, spurring the other to try and race him. He zipped past him and Dib shoved the Irkens' shoulder fighting to get ahead. The two of them laughed as they bolted for the humans room. It had gotten a bit more competitive than Dib thought it would, but he should have expected as much. This was Zim, after all. Once they had made it to his room the para-scientist was tossed onto his own bed, and the Irken quickly climbed over him. Zim stood over him with a single foot pressed down on his ribs.

“Victory! Victory for Zim!”

“You win Zim.” The human mocked surrender, pretending to cough and sputter, “With my final breath, I proclaim you the victor.”

Then, a tad over dramatically, Dib proceeded to die. Gurgling noises and all.

“I’m dead,” He announced, as if he hadn’t made it obvious enough.

“You know, it’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be.” Zim admitted, prying off his contacts and wig, tossing them into the air for his pak legs to collect.

“Why’s that?”

“Quiet you!” Zim snarked, leaning down to the face of the corpse below him, “You’re supposed to be dead.”

“I’m a ghost now.” The para-scientist explained, his eyes closed as he tried his best to still appear dead.

“Oh. That’s right I remember you explaining this _ghost_ _phenomenon_ to me. Well yes Dibs' ghost, I’m afraid that your death is not as satisfying for me as I thought it would be.”

“But I’m a ghost. Now you can take over the Earth. Just like you always wanted.”

“Eh,” The Irken shrugged, “I don’t really _feel_ like it.”

“Come on! Don’t you want to enslave the human race? I know how much you hate humanity.” The human prodded, breaking character as he sat up and playfully poked the aliens' sides.

“I do hate humanity,” Zim agreed thoughtfully. “But no! Without Dib this planet is- _really boring_.” The alien declared, with the back of his hand pressed impressively to this forehead. “Too boring to conquer!”

Dib smiled, he was horrible at pretending to be dead.

“I’d destroy this planet, but I’m fairly certain your sister would survive and hunt me down.” Zim added, rather seriously.

“Definitely,” The human agreed.

“Wait a minute. Are you actually even dead?”

Dib swept the other off from his feet causing him to yelp in surprise before he was pinned down onto the bed.

“Nope,” He answered, smirking over him, “It was all a ruse to distract you. I’ve finally captured you Zim!”

“Curses! Foiled by your deductive brilliance. What will you do with me now that I’ve been apprehended? What horrible experiments should I expect?”

An idea sprung to mind. Something the human had been curious about for awhile.

“The most horrible experiment you can imagine.”

Dib took his fingers and dug them into the aliens' sides. The reaction was immediate and one he’d hoped for. The Irken was laughing as he tried to stop the other from tickling him. Zim giggled, honest to Cthulhu, giggled and Dib loved the sound of it. He pulled away after he’d had his fun, and the Irken took a moment to breathe. He shot up soon after, and grabbed the humans' shoulders.

“What _was_ that? How did you get me to laugh just now? Explain this to me!”

“Humans call it tickling.”

“Eh?”

Dib figured he’d have to explain. Thankfully he’d prepared his research ahead of time. With no small thanks to google. He was slowly becoming an expert in humanity. From it’s psychology to it’s biology, Zim had plenty of questions. So the para-scientist did his best to learn every nuanced thing he could.

“For humans at least, the nerve endings of our epidermis, you remember that’s our scientific word for skin, right?” The human added, gaining an affirmative nod from the Irken, “Well, our nerve endings can be stimulated with light touch. They send a signal through the nervous system to our brains which uses either the somatosensory cortex or the anterior cingulated cortex to correspond to the nerves. And that’s what causes humans to feel tickling.”

“That’s all well and good, but how does that explain why _I_ felt it?”

Dib shrugged his shoulders.

“I dunno.”

He’d spent hours studying up how _humans_ responded to being tickled. Not Irkens.

“That’s hardly a satisfying answer.” The Irken huffed.

He’d call Zim over dramatic but it bothered him too. He hated not knowing. If the para-scientist had drawn out of his speculations sooner he may have noticed a particularly devious smirk from the alien in time, but he hadn’t. Zim flipped their position on the bed and pinned the human down.

“Let’s see how the human responds.”

Zim repeated the tickling hand gestures Dib had used and the human was thrown into a fit of uncontrolled hysterics.

“W-wa-wait Zim! Zim! Glasses! Let me put down my- my glas-glasses!”

Dib tried to pry them off but found it difficult to do.

“Pitiful.” Zim sighed theatrically, “I suppose I have to do everything.”

The Irken stopped, taking his glasses off before placing them carefully on the nightstand. Dib used this temporary break from the assault to grapple Zim down, once he’d safely set down the frames.

“Betrayal!”

The two fought one another, cackling like mad for a while. They exhausted their energy and soon enough were quietly laying still. They faced towards each other on the bed, just staring. There wasn’t much room on a measly twin bed, but neither seemed to mind. Dib tried to pinpoint the direction of his glance. The light hitting Zims' magenta eyes usually gave him an idea as to where the other was looking without his contacts.

He could see that the alien was looking past his face and up towards his hair. It held his fascination for the time being, and Dib wondered why. Sometimes oddities between themselves stood out. There were the obvious ones, like the tone of their skin or their number of fingers. Sometimes though, they were little things. Like this.

He didn’t say a word as Zim reached out his hand. The only strange thing was that he stopped. Dib thought, for as unusual at this point as it might have been, that maybe the Irken was about to ask before he touched his hair, but no. He just wanted to remove his gloves. Which was equally new. Dib had never so much as seen the alien without his gloves, let alone know what his hands would feel like.

The autumn evening roared in the quiet. Dib could hear the rustle of the leaves stirring in the trees, gently persuading them to fall to the ground. The faint chirp of the last remaining crickets and katydids whose calls had littered those short summer nights leading up to the fall. He could hear the tv downstairs and hum of his computer. He heard it all so clearly. Then a curious hand brushed through his hair, and he didn’t hear anything at all. As if everything else had faded away.

Neither had thought to turn on the lights before the sun began to set and now the room had grown dark. The only thing that gave the human light was the glow of the moon. Dib was certain that was the only reason he was seeing Zim like this. Relaxed, and even smiling. Not grinning or smirking. Just smiling, genuinely. It was a rare spectacle to see, and the para-scientist made to observe it for as long as he could.

The other seemed content. He had the humans' hair tangled through his fingers and seemed to like the feeling of it. His antennae were perked up to showcase his intrigue being satisfied. As Dib watched them flickering about, it occurred to him that he’s never inquired much about Zims antennae. Sure he understood they acted as his ears and reflected the Irkens' emotions but that was it. Watching as they made their subtle movements, Dib decided he wanted to explore them.

Certain that they were delicate, the human reasoned to simply touch them at first. Zim froze, his eyes landing on Dibs. He waited and gauged the others reaction. He looked curious, and the para-scientist was too all things considered. Pressing his hand as lightly as he could, Dib laid his palm flat against the stalk and brushed it upward. There was a visible twitch from the alien, and Dib pulled his hand away from the potential fire.

“Was that bad?” Dib quickly asked.

“Strange,” Zim clarified, “but… not bad.”

Dib raised his hand again, but let it linger as he waited. The Irken nodded slowly. With the others approval, Dib tentatively placed the tips of his fingers back on the others antenna. Zim waited patiently, something the human wasn’t sure he even knew how to do, and watched him apprehensively. When he was sure it was alright, Dib brushed his fingertips down the stalk of the others antenna. There was that same twitch from before, but this time it was followed by a sigh.

So of course Dib did it again. He continued brushing his fingers up and down against the stalk until the other had slumped down the mattress and practically melted into his bed.

“I have no idea what it is you are doing human, but please never stop.”

Please. Please? _Please_! Was Zim having a stroke?! Dibs movements stuttered to a halt, to the aliens annoyance.

“Okay, who are you and what did you do to Zim. ‘Cause the Zim I know doesn't say please.”

“I know how to use your human manners.” The Irken corrected, “I simply chose not to.”

“Until just now?”

“It makes you do what I want.”

Okay, _that_ sounded more like Zim.

“Alright, fine. At least tell me how you’re feeling right now. What is it doing when I touch them like this?”

“I don’t know,” Zim snarked innocently, “you stopped doing it, and now I can’t remember.”

“What, you forget how to say please too?” The human scoffed back.

“Yes,” The Irken replied with a smirk.

The human uttered a quiet laugh and said nothing further. He continued, but rather than simply brushing one antenna he took a hold of both of them, grabbing them at their bases, and rolling his thumbs into them. The smug look wiped away from Zims' face, as he softened to a relaxed drunken stupor. Dib applied gentle pressure to the antennae, treating it more like a massage as he focused on a rhythm.

“So? Come on, Zim. Tell me. What this is doing to you?” The other asked.

It was pure teasing at this point, because Dib knew what this was doing. The Irken was a puddle of sighs and coos, with a face stained purple. His toes were curling and tangling in his sheets. At some point, he’d even grabbed onto the humans' shoulders, clinging for dear life. He was falling apart, an adorable mess. Dib hated admitting it but there was no way around it; Zim was an adorable mess.

The noticeable thumping of boots drew Dibs' attention away the alien and he froze. His Dad was coming. Dib quickly grabbed the covers tucked against the wall and threw them over Zim.

“What th-”

Dib quickly shushed the Irken and pulled his head out of the covers just in time for his Dad to walk in.

“Hey _Dad_,” Dib emphasized for Zim, “what are you doing here? Without warning. In my room. Right now.”

“How very specific of you make note of son. I was wondering- er, your friend there? Is he… awake? I’d like to speak with you privately.”

“Nope! He’s _super_ asleep right now. So there’s _no_ need for him to have to get out from under this blanket.” Dib elaborated.

He could feel a movement from under the fabric, and was certain Zim just slapped himself in the face.

“Alright then.” The professor accepted, “Well, as you know your sister has wanted to go to Bloat World for sometime.”

“Basically our whole lives.” Dib pointed out.

“Yes, and while I thought I was able to make the proper arrangements...”

“_Oh no. Oh no please tell me you didn’t. Not again._”

Dib felt himself gripping the sheets.

“I’m afraid there's been a change of plans.”

He could feel his stomach drop.

“Your sister didn’t take it so well and she decided to run away. But not to worry! As I suspected she’s simply at a friends house. I received a call from the mother.”

What was there to say at this point. How could he be surprised. It was only the seventh year in a row.

“I’m sure you understand.” He tried to throw in.

Dib didn’t have anything to say.

“Well, good-night son.”

He stood there, maybe he’d wanted Dib to say something, but he already decided he wasn’t going to. Once he was gone, Dib threw off the blanket to let Zim know it was clear. He reached for his glasses and once they were secure on his face, he began to look for his phone.

“Um, the Gaz-Sister is she-”

“Hold on, I’m looking for my phone.”

Zim didn’t hold on, apparently. Dib could hear the familiar tone of a speed dial. The Irken had managed to fish out his own phone first. It answered after the first two rings.

“Yeah, what?” Came the reply from the speaker.

“Gaz!” The alien shouted, “Are. You. Okay?”

“Zim, seriously!” The para-scientist criticized, “Gaz, we just heard what happened and-”

“Ugh, I’m fine.” The younger sister spoke, clearly not so fine, “I _knew_ Dad was gonna to forget. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“Do you want me to dissect him for you?” The Irken offered.

“Hey, he’s my Dad too!” The brother proclaimed.

“This isn’t about you _Dib_! The Gaz-Human is _clearly_ more upset than you are right now.”

“I’m not upset!” His sister defended.

“Even if he’s a jerk you can’t just dissect him!”

“Oh why not?” He almost seemed to pout.

“We’ve been over this Zim! To dissect someone, they have to be dead. And killing our _Dad_ is a bad thing!”

“I don’t care if he kills Dad.” Gaz agreed bitterly.

“See?”

“Gaz, don’t agree with him.” The para-scientist cautioned. “He’ll take it literally.”

He could hear his sister sigh and a crunch from the other end of the line. He assumed she’d flopped down into where ever she was and had laid down. The human and Irken shared a look of concern with one another. It was hard not to worry about her. That was something they’d both come to share.

“I’m gonna spend the rest of the weekend here. Don’t want to get grounded for smashing Dads' stupid merch in my room again, so I’m doing it here. I swiped my bat and stuffed a bag with his glass knick-knacks so I’m good.”

“I’m here if you need to talk.” Dib offered.

There was a smash. That would be the first of many knick-knacks.

“Don’t want to.” She replied, “… but thanks.”

“Even though my offer was declined, know that Zim is still here for you as well, Gaz.” The Irken noted. “If you seek the destruction to these so called, _knick-knacks_, I will be happy to provide you with the proper fire power necessary to destroy every last one of them! That is, if you deem it would help you.”

“Yeah. Okay. I guess that sounds _kind of_ fun.”

“Oh it will be. Meet me and Dib at my house tomorrow.” Zim arranged.

“Those knick-knacks won’t stand a chance!” Dib agreed.

“Yes! They will meet their doom!”

Dib could almost swear he heard his sister laughing on the other end but knowing Gaz, she’d deny it if he asked. It was alright. He’d keep it to himself.

“Yeah okay. God. You guys are dorks but, whatever. I’m in.”

“Night Gaz.”

“Rest well, Gaz-Human.”

“I’m not going to bed, but see you tomorrow. Night.”

There was a cut from the other line, indicating she’d hung up.

“That went well.” The Irken remarked as he replaced his phone into his pak.

“I hope she’s okay.”

Dib hugged his knees and rested his chin against them. He felt a sudden comforting arm from the Irken. That would make it the second time that night he questioned if this was the real Zim.

“She’s not okay.”

There he was. There was his asshole. Dib still glared at him, though.

“That’s why we’re going to _make_ her okay. So don’t worry.”

He knew the alien meant well. He usually did in Gazs' case. All that was left now was the weight of responsibility that, at the moment, he felt sorely lacking.

“I’m her big brother. I’m supposed to worry.” The human clarified.

“I know. You’ve told me your role before. I’m still going to tell you not to worry about it.”

“Is that _your_ role?” Dib inquired, playfully.

“Perhaps,” Zim answered.

Dib couldn’t stop himself from smiling as the Irken avoided his eyes.

“Hey Zim.”

“Yes, human?”

Dib rested his weight against Zim, and laid his head on the others shoulder.

“I care about you too.”

“I didn’t say that!”

“But, you did.”

“I-” He tried to fight it, but his argument seemed to die in his throat, “… maybe.”

They sat quietly for a while, basking in the various sounds of the autumn night. Dib liked this. Maybe for reasons other than science.

“You should probably get some rest. It’s getting late.” Zim remarked.

Dib glanced at the clock on the night stand. Was it really one o’ clock?

“Oh, I guess it is.”

The human flopped down into the bed.

“Night, Zim.”

“Ugh,”

Dib was confused at what he’d translated as an eye roll until his vision became blurry. Oh right. His glasses.

“How have you not broken these yet?” The Irken remarked, placing them carefully back onto the night stand.

“Oh, I’ve broken them a lot actually.” Dib, corrected. “In fact, those lenses were replaced just last week if you can believe it.”

“I believe it.” Zim dryly remarked.

Once the glasses were back on the nightstand, the Irken sat awkwardly in his bed.

“Suppose I’ll go… read now…” He suggested.

As he made to turn and leave something came over Dib, and the human really didn’t want him to go. He took a hold of his uniform, and held the alien there. Dib wasn’t sure of what to say, but Zim seemed to get the hint.

“I don’t really need sleep.” He reminded the human.

“I know. But would you um… want to?”

Zim didn’t seem like he wanted to go either. Dib would call it wishful thinking, but he knew he was right.

“I could.” The Irken responded cautiously.

Dib lifted the blanket to invite the alien underneath, and Zim was quick to scurry along inside. The human refused to admit the brutal assault that did to his heart, and only hoped the heat on his cheeks wasn’t noticeable. Dib adjusted to give Zim space for himself, only to feel the Irken scooting even closer towards him. Apparently he didn’t mind the close proximity, and with him being cold-blooded the para-scientist should have expected as much. He knew he’d just have to accept it. Funny enough, Dib was finding that an easy thing to do.

“Good-night space boy,”

He received nothing but soft snores as a response. Dib wondered if he’d ever slept before. One of many questions he asked himself before he too would fall asleep.


	8. The Local Customs

The present-

Zim could kiss the ground he was so happy! However, he’d already kissed enough dirt for _one_ lifetime which put the thought out of mind. Still, it was good to finally be back on solid ground. Their ride hadn’t been overly long. It was little less than a week actually. Making it much better than the six month trip he was normally used to.

The Otherwhere. The Irken had heard stories. Like the Earth, it was originally thought not to exist. It was eventually found, but considering how out of the way the galaxy was, the Irken Empire had no interest in conquering it. Better for him and his companions, he supposed. Zim wasn’t quite so sure what he would do if he came into contact with an Irken invader. Was he obligated to do something?

Well, if it came to that he’d think of something. Although truth be told he didn’t know what they might say, or if they would even care. They might try to go after him. They might just ignore him, in which case, ignoring them back would be easy. Unless they came for what was _his_. The alien might not be so civil then.

“I can’t believe it. W- we’re- I can’t even begin to… it’s incredible.”

Zim turned to see the Membranes collectively marveling in awe at the sight of their first planet away from home. Even Gazs’ eyes were lit up wide as she took everything in. Zim found himself starring too just, not at the planet. What held the Irkens’ attention was currently adjusting his glasses. The look of wonder in those shimmering gold eyes. It was something the alien had wanted to see.

The Irken had been to hundreds of planets across dozens of galaxies, and never once would he have imagined a planet like this would be his favorite.

“_That title used to belong to Earth, but Dib isn’t there anymore._”

Zim recoiled at himself. Any more sappy thoughts like that and the alien was sure to develop the human _diabetes_.

“Look,” Gaz gathered their attention to down the hill.

Sure enough, there was civilization here after all.

“Guess we’re not alone.” She remarked.

This was a standard Class M planet.

“_As Dib would __put __it,_” The Irken easily recalled.

The ground was covered in lush tall blades of grass that shimmered against the wind. The environment wasn’t overly populated with trees outside of the city walls, just endless fields of plains. The city was simple enough. It’s stone structure spoke of a civilization that was far from advanced. Although, he wouldn’t know what they were dealing with until they were on the inside. Zim made sure their ship was cloaked and hidden before carefully stepping in front of the Membrane siblings.

“Hold it humans!” He began, as he held his arms out. “Before we go into the city, there are some ground rules we need to set in place.”

“Rules, huh? They gonna chop off our heads for lookin’ at em’ wrong or something?”

The Irken and the para-scientist shared a look before they nodded unanimously.

“That sounds about right.” Dib remarked.

“Very likely, yes.” Zim agreed.

“Okay shit, you guys are serious.” The Membrane sister realized, “Still,” she added, “I wouldn’t worry about me. If anything you should be watching _him_.”

She gestured toward her brother with her thumb.

“He doesn’t have to look after me Gaz.” Dib rebuked, “I’m an adult. I know how to behave.”

***

“Where is your brother?!” Zim declared in a panic, looking frantically for the human.

“You lost him again?” Gaz asked, not looking away from the claw machine that held her attention, “Do we need to get him one of those toddler leashes or something?”

She had formed quite the pile of plush toys, much to the shop keepers growing dismay.

“That is beginning to sound like a _very _probable solution.” He replied as he massaged his temples.

The moment they’d set foot into the marketplace, Dib had managed to get swallowed up by the crowds. Zim was able to keep track of the para-scientist for a good five minuets after finding him. Only for him to have run off yet again. Why was he not surprised? Yes, yes, bring the curious paranormal investigator to a foreign planet. He’ll behave, and absolutely _not_ get himself killed by the natives for running amuck.

Zim noticed that Gir had remained obediently glued to Gazs’ side for the whole hour they’d been in the city. He witnessed this unnatural scene with his jaw hanging agape, dumbfoundedly starring between the two of them. Unfazed, Gaz held up a wrapped Monkey-Brain Dough Ball and tossed it Girs’ way. The robot ate up the treat, wrapper and all, in a single bite. Taking to the snack like a bin would trash.

“Pretty sad when the actual toddler is easier to manage than a nineteen year old toddler.” Gaz supplied, increasing her hoard of stuffed companions with a new addition.

“Whoa! What is that?” Dibs’ voice suddenly cut through the crowd.

Zim jerked his head around and sure enough, there he was. Poking at some sort of furry tentacled creature hanging from the side of a small rafter.

“Dib! I swear! You-! _Crrt kritt shkk_!” The alien shouted, relieved yet enraged as he slipped into his native Irken tongue.

“I think they were selling leashes at the sex-slave shop down the street. If you kick his ass in front of the store they might give you a discount.” Gaz helpfully added, snagging yet another toy from the machine.

Zim managed to weave his way through the people in the street until he caught up with the para-scientist. He spun him around by the arm, not looking the slightest bit pleased.

“Oh- heh heh, hey Zim...” The other weakly tried.

“Do not “hey Zim” me! _Khikk __srt krst __tttk rgg crrt_, Dib!” The Irken worriedly growled, as he jabbed his finger into the humans’ chest.

“Hey, take it easy. There’s no need to talk like that, I’m fine. Sorry for ditching you. I wasn’t trying to make you worry.”

“_Rrcit krth tgk kkish st ikiis_.”

“Who says I’m acting like a toddler?!”

The Irken simply points towards Gaz, while continuing to glare at Dib. The human passed that glare onto his sister, who chose to ignore him. Focusing back on Zim, Dib sighs and looks apologetically towards the alien, awkwardly rubbing at his arm. Zim softened slightly at the gaze, and sighed himself. At least Dib was okay, the idiot. So he calmed down, and concentrated on translating his Irken back into English.

It was impossible for Dib to speak Irken with the flat shape of his tongue, so they compromised. Zim would speak, Dib listened. The para-scientist may have understood him fairly well, but Zim still preferred speaking to Dib with the humans’ native language. After nearly ten years of practice, it was steadily becoming his language too.

“I know you’re excited, but could you _try_ to refrain from getting your head chopped off? It would be a shame to lose it so soon after adjusting to your body.”

The Irken was playfully shoved away,

“Such an ass,” The para-scientist muttered, with a smile.

With his concerns dashed away, Zim found himself laughing and shoving the human right back.

“Hey,”

Gaz caught up with her brother and Zim, carting an armful of stuffed plushies.

“The guy who runs that claw game just gave me fifty bucks to stop playing on his machine. I’m gonna go put these up. When I get back, let’s get some food already, I’m starving.”

She didn’t wait for an answer. Gaz just left it at that and headed back to the ship, with Gir in tow. The robot begged and begged, but Gaz refused to let him launch any of her toys into space. As the two of them strolled out of sight, Zim had to grab at the sleeve of Dibs’ coat to keep him from wandering off again. Maybe he did need a leash. Though, he wasn’t about to waste monies on something he had readily available for free.

Zim thrust his hand towards the para-scientists’ and clasped their hands together.

“Since you can’t be trusted not to get lost, this is mine now.” The Irken declared, giving the hand in question a light squeeze as he claimed it.

Dib grumbled at the new restriction, but didn’t protest aside from that. The Irken decided it was his turn to lead, so he guided Dib towards what appeared to be a food court. Now that it had been mentioned, he realized that he _was_ hungry. He hadn’t had so much as a piece of candy in the past two hours! He couldn’t imagine how hungry the Membranes must be. They hadn’t eaten since this morning and that was nearly five hours ago!

“We should really get you something to eat, Dib.” The Irken cautioned as he neared the stands.

“I’m fine.” The human reasoned, “I could probably go for another hour.”

Dib once told him that humans could survive two whole weeks without food. Zim knew how curious his human was but thankfully, Dib was smart. He reassured the alien that he would never try such a thing. It still made him worry. They didn’t share the same biology, sure. However, thinking in terms of his own biology made him worry when he didn’t eat. Plus, that rail thin frame didn’t help matters.

“Aw man,” Dib relented, “it’s not fair when you look at me like that.”

“Like what?” Zim replied defensively.

Zim was giving looks? What sort of looks? He felt a coolness flush his cheeks. Dib smiled fondly towards him, and somehow that made it worse.

“It’s nothing Zim. Oh hey! That looks pretty good. What’s that?”

The human pointed in the direction of a stand selling little cakes.

“Those? They’re Goorp Cakes. On a stick.”

“So, they’re like cake pops?” The other deduced.

How did he put this in terms the human would understand? Then he remembered that strange concoction Dib once made.

“Do you recall the time you put waffles, chicken, syrup, almonds, those chocolate coated malt balls thingies and whip cream together in a bowl?”

“That was a dark time in my life,” Dib remarked, “but yeah?”

“It’s like that, but not nearly as _messy_.” The alien shuddered as he spoke.

“I said I was sorry about the couch.” He reminded him, with regret.

“Why was there whipped cream under the cushions, Dib!?”

“I already told you, I don’t know!”

“So much whipped cream...”

“Maybe I’ll just get something else.” The human suggested, guiding them to a different booth.

Dib settled for some kind of sandwich, while Zim managed to find some ice cream. The alien decked a cone with a triple scoop of strawberry fudge, and was quick to lick away at it as they scanned for a place to eat. Thankfully, there was an empty table nearby, with more than enough room for the four. Dib carefully set his bags up on the table, while Zim recklessly tossed his own on the ground. Once the two of them had settled into their seats their hands fell apart, as they focused on their food. After some time Zim noticed the human wasn’t really eating but rather, studying him eat.

“I know Irkens _need_ sweets to fuel their hyper-metabolisms, but that looks pretty excessive.” The para-scientist commented.

“Show’s what you know.” The alien, informed the other, “This will just barely give me enough energy for an hour.”

“Huh, guess I was wrong then.” Dib admitted.

“Ha!”

“Just like _you’re_ wrong about me constantly being near the brink of starvation.”

“What am I supposed to think when you only eat three times a day?!” The Irken replied, agitated by his wasted concern.

“Uh, that I’m nearing my twenties, so clearly I must know how _not_ starve to death by this point?” The human retorted.

He was right. Zim hated when he was right. He glared at the humans’ smirk.

“Just eat your meat-wich Dib-Thing.”

“I’ll,” The contents of his sandwich wiggled and writhed, “...try.”

Dib took a tentative bite, ready to recoil. However after tasting the sandwich and swallowing it down he seemed more intrigued than anything.

“Huh,” Dib reflected, “tastes like the sloppy joes from our school cafeteria.”

“Why does _that_ not surprise me.” The Irken stated rather than asked.

“Ugh, what is that?” Gaz questioned, apparently making it back from the ship.

Gir happily trotted around her, his arms full as they toted numerous squiggly, squishy, squirmy, selections of alien food.

“I… don’t know.” Dib confessed, “But it’s edible.”

“Yeah, well so is the food in the human court.” His sister directed, indicating to a food booth not too far from where the two had been.

Where had _that_ booth been? Neither of them had noticed it earlier. Gaz made room for herself on the other side, carting a sizable slice of pizza, and a fountain drink for herself.

“I didn’t come to an alien planet just to eat stuff I could have found on Earth.” The para-scientist reasoned.

“Oh, like that’s _not_ supposed to be the mystery meat from school.” Gaz argued, “At least now we know where it comes from.”

“It uh, actually tastes better. Oddly enough.”

“Say what you want, Dib. I’m not putting that thing anywhere near my face.”

Gir grabbed a handful of squirmy gray worm-looking bugs.

“Wanna try some of this?!” He asked excitedly.

“What sort of food is that?” Dib questioned.

The para-scientist, reached a finger to try and poke at the bugs only to have Zim place his hand over it and lightly push the curious digit back.

“That isn’t food,” The Irken corrected, “those are just grubs Gir found on the ground.”

“Tasty grubs!” The robot declared, before mashing them in his mouth.

“What all have you eaten Gir?” The para-scientist asked with concern.

“What _hasn’t_ he eaten?” Gaz corrected.

“There’s a back log I can access to identify everything Gir’s ever ingested, but I’m afraid to open it.” Zim admitted.

“I like it when they squish.”

The group decided it was best to just let the robot be, and ate their food. In the settling quiet Zim casually took Dibs’ hand back. His tiny fingers just barely wrapped around the larger hand, as he focused on slimming down his melting meal.

“I’m not going anywhere, Zim.” The para-scientist reassured.

“I know that.” He stated.

“So, can I have my hand back?” Dib asked.

“No.”

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to hold up a sub with one hand?”

“That sounds like your problem, Dib.” The Irken snarked with a smile.

The human sighed but then suddenly, a smile of his own formed on his face. A smile that while, not a smirk, damn sure read close to one. The Irken could feel Dibs’ hand moving. He frowned at first thinking the other was about to pry it away, but then the human wove their fingers together. Oh. He switched it to _that_ kind of hand holding.

Zim _liked_ that kind of hand holding. It somehow managed to make the humans’ gargantuan hand even larger, and wow did that do things to the Irken. His spooch in particular fluttered about in his chest as the alien took an avid interest in the table. Yes, it most certainly was a table. The place where Dibs’ eyes were not. A very interesting place.

Before the Irken had a chance to get over the unbearably sweet gesture, he found himself distracted by a set of approaching footsteps. He turned to find a group of aliens had stepped up to their table, not looking entirely friendly.

“Oh hey!”

Apparently Dib was already familiar with them.

“I forgot to tell you earlier Zim but I met these guys- er well, _these guys_,” the human clarified as he gestured towards them, “and they recognized I was human! Apparently they’ve been by Earth before. They even know English! Can you imagine? Small galaxy right?”

“Uh-huh...” The Irken replied, hesitantly.

Zim… despised them. To put it lightly. They looked a far cry from tourists. The rough and rugged group of slimes, bullfrogs, and sentient robots, what with their faint putrid odor, tattered clothing and missing tentacles, resembled a band of pirates more than anything trustworthy. Plus the matching cross-boned patches were a dead give away. Though he should have expected Dibs’ curiosity to outweigh his common sense. Because unfortunately for the human, it usually did.

“Anyway,” Dib continued, “they said they know this planet pretty well, and they could show us around.”

A slimy bullfrog, seemingly the leader of the group, stepped forward.

“Now, now. Take it easy yeppo. We only got room for one more aboard our ship. Afraid your friends gotta wait. You know, you know?”

He had the nerve to grab the humans’ shoulder. This gross stranger. Was touching Dib. Why was that gooey hand touching Dib?

“Oh. Well it’s just, I thought since you said it was an Artulian Class-5 cargo ship it would have to be pretty big and-”

“Listen to this kid! Talkin’ like he knows ships!”

“_Don’t touch his hair __like that__. He doesn’t like __it being pushed into his head__._”

“You only just got to space!”

As expected, the para-scientist was quick to swat the offending hand away. Gaz groaned, muttering something along the lines of, “Moron needs a lesson in stranger danger too?” as she dragged her hand across her face. Zim wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean, but one thing was for certain. He didn’t like where this was going.

“So how ‘bout it kid? Ready to see some _real_ sights?” The frog offered.

Before the human could so much as say a word, Zim placed his own hand on the other’s shoulder and stood from the table. Using his seat to stand just a bit taller, he glared the amphibians’ way.

“[He won’t be doing that anytime soon, thieving Berakki scum.]”

“[Oh ho! We got an Irken with a moral code, eh? So what do _you_ want with ‘em?]

“Uh,” Dib replied, lost on whatever new language it was he was hearing.

“[That’s of no concern to you, pus maggot. This one is _mine_, and you will be taking him nowhere.]”

“Psst, Gir. You have any idea what they’re saying?” Dib whispered.

“Hmm,” The robot thoughtfully pondered. “They’s talkin’ ‘bout bugs!”

While Gir seemed satisfied with his answer, the para-scientist was less than convinced.

“[Sounds like something he should decide, “friend”.]”

The berakki went to grab Dib again. Something made difficult once his jacket was pierced through. The Irken lifted the slimy alien up off of the ground to dangle. The rest of Zims’ pak legs followed suit, causing the Irken to garner some _real_ height. The thought of Dib going off with these horrible creatures and never being seen again, had his blood boiling. He knew exactly what they wanted him for, and Zim would be damned if he was about to let them make a profit out of _his_ human for some filthy zoo.

“[Interesting fact about Irkens.]” The Irken in question spoke, slowly and deliberately, “[Did you know there isn’t a word in our vocabulary for forgiveness? That means if you try selling him to the nearest black market- if you so much as even _think_ about touching _my_ Dib again with that disgusting hand of yours, then _I_ am going to become _very_ familiar with berakkian anatomy. Understand?]"

He emphasized this by fanning out the various tools he had available for dissection. His pak legs had conveniently been designed for just such a thing, and he was more than happy to demonstrate his techniques.

“[Uh.. F-forget this! He isn’t worth the trouble. We’re goin’ j-j-just put me down, ya freak.]”

Zim obliged, slowly lowering the frog. He wanted to savor that fear.

“_That’s right. Know your place, thief. And keep away from what is Zims’._”

Once he was lowered onto the ground proper, he dusted himself off.

“[That being said, you don’t mind if we snatch up the other one, right?]”

The Irken hissed in a way he hadn’t done since Gir had nearly been killed. The claws of his pak legs swirled their razor blades like buzzing saws.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY FAMILY!”

The pirates seemed to take a hint, and quickly scattered off. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins as he watched them go, ready should they decide to try and come back.

“Zim, you-” Dib tried to say.

Before Gaz cut him off, “Uh, guys. I think we better go.”

Zim turned to find a crowd that didn’t appear too happy with a violent Irken suddenly amongst them. A mob was gathering, as the people pointed towards the four of them for various reasons. From destroyed valuable artifacts, that caused Dib to duck in shame, to snacks that apparently Gir didn’t actually pay for, it seemed like the whole town was after them now. Even the shop clerk that had given Gaz monies to leave seemed to want a refund and then some. Apparently two hours was limit for these planetary visits.

“To the ship!” The Irken declared, scooping up Gir.

Considering they were faster, Zim sprinted with his pak legs out of the city. Gir protested about his snacks being left behind only for the Irken to tell him they were going to have a talk about his “sticky fingers” later. Dib tried to lead his little sister by taking a hold of her wrist but since she could run faster, she ended up dragging her brother through the streets instead. He stuttered in his foot falls, but Gaz made sure he wasn’t left behind. They made it out by the skin of their teeth and apparently Dibs’ left shoe. Soon enough, they were safely back in space, completely adventured out for the day.

Zim didn’t waste any time getting as far away from the planet as they could, and once the planet was completely out of sight the four relaxed. Or at least the three had. Gir was completely wound up from all the junk food, and racing across the streets had barely helped to calm the little bot down. A quick switch of the tv however, and Gir was glued civilly to the floor. Satisfied with the calmed bot, Zim casually went back to piloting the ship. That is he would be, if it weren’t for the two passengers stowing away up front with him.

“I’ll take the first shift. Don’t worry about the navigation. I’ve read up on a few star maps while we were in town and I’ve become familiar with most of this galaxy.”

The two were quiet for a moment, speaking in that silent way the Irken had yet to fully understand. Sibling talk, the two had gone about calling it. A strange language. He’d decipher it one day, he was sure of it.

“Okay, so-” Dib began.

Before again, his sister interrupted, “You consider us family?”

Zim startled. How had they heard that?!

“You were mistaken!” He tried, “Clearly you were hearing things in my berakkian that weren’t actually said.”

“But you said it in English.” The para-scientist pointed out.

He had? He… had. Zim remembered now. The Irken had the sudden urge to step out of the ship without a suit. He settled for burying his head in his hands.

“Zim, It’s okay.” Dib said comfortingly as he laughed.

It didn’t appear to be condescending, but that hardly helped salve the aliens’ embarrassment. The para-scientist slung his arms around him from behind the seat, while the sister patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“You were gonna be a Membrane eventually anyway. We might as well get used to it now.” Gaz accepted.

Zim wondered what she meant by that, but she’d already wandered off to the back of the ship. Maybe later then. For now he was still being wrapped up in those arms, and he wanted to savor the feeling. Zim reached up and brushed his hands along the others forearms, encouraging him to stay.

“Hey,” The human spoke, “you think you can teach me berakkian sometime?”

“If you’re interested, I can teach you something right now.” The alien replied.

“Yeah, like what?”

“You know how he was calling you yeppo?” Zim reminded.

“Yeah?” Dib remembered, “What _does_ that mean anyway?”

“Come here.” The Irken beckoned with his finger.

Dib leaned in close and Zim cupped his ear, whispering the word. The para-scientist immediately shot back in disgust.

“O-oh god!” Dib cringed, “_That’s_ what he was calling me?!”

“Oh yes,” Zim elaborated, “and I wanted to strangle him the moment he’d said it too.”

“Kinda wish you would have. That is just… so gross.”

“Trust me, what _I_ said to him was far worse.”

“I believe it.”

Dib continued to hold him, as they talked and every now Zim would brush a free hand against the others arm.

“_Ki_ Dib,”

When those arms wrapped around him that much tighter, Zim couldn’t help but smile.

“And you’re mine.”


	9. New Territory (part 1)

Middle School- 7th grade

“Okay, let’s see.” The para-scientist began, “I’ve got my camera, my night-vision goggles, enough snacks to last the night and a change of clothes for the next day. Looks like my spy kit is ready to go!”

Dib shut the lid of his briefcase and set it on his desk. He was all prepared for tonight. The only thing left was to let the alien know he was going to be watching him later. Even nearly a whole year after they'd forged their treaty that was still such a weird thing to do. He’d plucked his phone from the nightstand, when Gaz entered his room. She was leaned against the door way and munching on toast.

“You ready for school or what?” Gaz asked, clearly aching to get the day over with.

“In a minute, Gaz! I’ve gotta text Zim. Oh- and uh, I’ll be out late.” He thought to add.

“I can see that,” She said, glancing at the stuffed briefcase. “So, you gonna spy on him again?”

“I have to make sure he doesn’t break the treaty somehow, right?”

“Wait.”

Dib glanced up at his sister, confused. His thumbs hovered over the keypad, already in the middle of setting up the text. Gaz dropped her bag at the doorway and sat down next to him on the bed. Then she snatched his phone away. Before Dib could stop her she cleared his text and sent out two of her own. When she was done, she tossed the phone back to him and went for her things.

The para-scientist quickly examined the text.

“Let’s hang out later? I’ll take you trick or treating? Gaz!”

“You wanna spy on him? Fine.” The sister relented, “But you don’t have to smell like cheese every time you do. Plus, I want candy.”

Right. It was Halloween. The only day of the year people _didn’t_ make fun of the way he dressed. If anything, they called “his outfit” subtle. Dib really couldn’t win.

“You’re old enough to go trick or treating on your own!” The brother argued.

“Yeah well- maybe I found an outfit for Zim or whatever,” She defended, “and I thought it might be funny to dress him up. O-or something. I dunno.”

Dib threw his head back and groaned.

“Ugh! He’s a danger to the Earth, Gaz!” He remarked, shoving past his sister, “I cannot believe my _own_ _sister_ is friends with the literal _invader_, that’s threatening to conquer our planet.”

Dib booked it down the stairs while Gaz followed.

“We’re not friends.” She clarified, tightly gripping the railing as she trotted behind, “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t _have_ any friends. And neither do you.”

A cutting remark, however true it may have been. It wasn’t as if his sister was any better. Even if it was for different reasons, they were both seen as freaks. Though, he wasn’t about to get into that now. There was a leftover slice of pizza in the fridge with his name on it. Literally, considering labeling leftovers was one of their Dad’s rules.

“So what, you wanna be all _buddy buddy_ with my sworn enemy now?” He asked, bitterly, “Just- why?” The fridge rattled as he yanked the door open, “Why do you always have to go out of your way to spite me?”

He snatched his slice and ate it straight out of the fridge. Everyone in his life considered him a freak anyway. Might as well be a freak who likes cold Hawaiian pizza too.

“Yeah Dib. ‘Cause _my_ every waking moment is devoted to keeping tabs on someone in the most creepy and stalker-ish way possible. _Oh wait_.”

Apparently, she felt satisfied with her point, and chose to walk off. Dib didn’t even get the chance to defend himself. Her sarcasm was bitter as always and ground on his nerves. Especially when she was right.

“He does the same thing to me.” Dib grumbled under his breath.

It was seven in the morning. How was the day already ruined before he even left his _room_? Dib made sure to kick the door to the refrigerator closed, as he hauled up his backpack from the couch. There was homework he’d forgotten to do, and late projects he’d put off spilling from every partially closed pouch and zipper. The thing was a beast to lug around, and honestly the only thing he wanted to do with it since starting middle school was tie it to a massive set of fireworks and launch it into the sky. That is, if there was even a rocket powerful enough to lift such a thing as a school kids’ backpack.

Dibs’ phone buzzed in his pocket and a sense of dread curled in his gut. If it wasn’t for the fact that rigid cheese had a delicious charm to it, he would have definitely lost his appetite. Again, he chose to ignore the uncomfortable in favor of pizza. The unfortunate truth was, he was beginning to reach the crust. He only had so much pizza. The phone was ringing again and Dib would eventually have to answer it.

He’d never chewed pizza crust so slowly in all of his life. It was the only excuse he had not to answer the phone. As he paced down the street, he managed to catch up to his sister. The para-scientist eventually shoved the rest of the crust down the hatch, and wrestled his coat looking for his phone. It managed to buzz again in the process, causing Dib to anxiously pat the whole of himself down until he finally reunited with the thing. There were now three messages.

“_What is this so called, hanging out?_”- IZ_overlord01

“_Why do you not answer?_”- IZ_overlord01

“_YOU WILL ANSWER TO ZIM!!!_”- IZ_overlord01

All caps. That was never a good sign. He had to respond and fast.

“_afp srry_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

Dang it. Texted too fast.

“_sorry_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

The response was near instant, as if Zims’ phone was just glued to his hands.

“_YOU HAVE YET TO ANSWER, DIB-BEAST! ANSWER ZIM._”- IZ_overlord01

“_weve talked about the caps thing_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_stop t__xting__ in caps and ill tell you_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_texting_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

There was a pause. Just enough for Dib to try and wrestle with his hair. Unbrushed, as usual. He tried straightening it out, but gave up when that only seemed to make it tangle up worse. Another text.

“_I have met your unnecessary demands. Now tell me of this hanging out._”-IZ_overlord01

Oh boy. How did he want to do this? Dib could already see the school a little less than half a block away. He could just tell him it was Gazs’ stupid idea and that he had nothing to do with it. The thing was, _why_ did she do it? Why did she have to do this, and put the thought in his head? He almost wanted to and it was so frustrating.

He read the aliens’ text again. How was he supposed to know what hanging out was like? It wasn’t as if he’d ever done it before. So he just went with what he knew.

“_its __two__ friends spending time together_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

Two friends spending time together? Did he _really_ just text that? He and Zim weren’t friends!

“_But we’re not friends._”-IZ_overlord01

“_Yes! Exactly. __Thank you!_” Dib thought, glaring towards his sister.

“_i know that_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_Then wouldn’t that nullify your request?_”-IZ_overlord01

In any normal circumstance, yes. So why was this conversation continuing?

“_do __you __want it to?_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

What, no! Why was he asking the alien what _he_ thought of all this?! He was just going to tell him this was stupid. Because of course Zim didn’t want to “hang out” with him! It was absurd, who would want to be friendly towards their enemy? This was a friend thing, and they were not friends!

The Membrane siblings had made it to the oppressive facility that was their school, and Dib had yet to receive a text back from the alien. He hadn’t messed this up, right? Had he pushed things too far? What if Zim called off the truce over this? Holy crap, what has he done?!

“Dib!” He could hear the alien shout from the other side of the street.

The Irken had cupped his hands to the sides of his face, which wasn’t really necessary. He was already loud enough without it. Oh great. He wanted to call off the truce face to face. It was all over now, and it was his fault. Dib tried to take his time getting to the other side, but Gaz was having none of it and dragged him by the arm across the street.

“This is it, Gaz.” The para-scientist, sighed dramatically,“The truce is over. Finished. Say good bye to your planet while you still can.”

“Ugh, stop being such a baby, Dib.” She complained, “Just go talk to him.”

Eventually they made it across, and he was now face to face with the Irken.

“Finally!” He exclaimed, “It’s as if you were trying to _avoid_ Zims’ presence!”

“Um-”

“As if such a thing were possible.” The Irken boasted, while he postured himself proudly.

“_You have no idea, space boy._” He thought tiredly to himself.

Another dress today. Although, it could easily be mistaken for his usual uniform. It had the same shades of pink and the same stripes. However, instead of sharp spiked shoulders, the sleeves had a poof to them. As well as a button up collar. The style was ripped straight out of the fifties, all that was missing was a poodle on the skirt.

“About this “hanging out”-” The other began.

“Listen Zim, I wasn’t-”

“Zim accepts.” He interrupted.

The human fell silent. What just happened?

“Hey Zim.” Gaz casually cut in.

She kept her focus on her Game Slave Dual-Screen.

“Ah, hello Gaz-Human.” The alien pleasantly greeted.

“Just Gaz is fine and like I’ve said before, faster.”

“What are you playing?” He asked, instead of correcting himself.

“It’s just Vampire Piggy Hunter.” She answered while smashing various buttons.

“I heard this game has an infamously horrible sewer level.” Zim noted as he peered over his sisters' shoulder, “Did you make it past there yet?

“Yeah, but I’m stuck. I’m still missing the seventh crucifix.”

“Did you try the door over there?”

“It needs a key.”

Dib just sat back, stunned. Was it really that easy?

“Can’t you just buy the key?” Zim argued.

“No you’re thinking about V.P.H. XIII Ballad of the Evening.” Gaz corrected, “You can’t buy keys for the original Vampire Piggy Hunter. Kinda the only bad thing about this game.”

“Can I play it?” The Irken eagerly asked.

“Well…” Gaz deliberated, “there’s about seven more hours of game play left so I guess I’ll be done before lunch. You can borrow it if you want. I don’t care.”

“Very well then. Zim shall wait until the _putrid_ lunch. Oh! Don’t forget to collect that pendant!” The alien exclaimed, hopping about at his sisters’ shoulder while he pointed at her screen.

“I see it Zim, I’m not blind.”

The pair had already walked off, leaving the paranormal investigator behind to think. He and Zim were going to hang out. It wasn’t a big deal. It was just a thing. A thing he said friends did. That was… certainly something to think about.

The bell for class blared across the school yard, signaling the start of the day. Dib internally groaned. He was about to feel every last one of the next eight hours kicking and screaming, wasn’t he?

***

History was easy enough. All it really consisted of was listing the same times and the same places on repeat. Dib could do that in his sleep and besides, who didn’t sleep through the class anyway? You’d think certainly not their teacher, but you’d be surprised. The best part though, no Zim. That meant the para-scientist was, at the very least, given an hour try and get through the day.

Still, he couldn’t help but wonder why? What made Zim accept his- or rather _Gazs’ _invitation? It was so sudden. One minute, he was practically screaming at him on the phone, and the next?

“_Yeah, sure Dib. Let’s just do that weird new human thing you said you wanted to do!_” The human imitated in his thoughts, “_I don’t find that suspicious at all! Because that sounds like me. A calm, trusting completely non-sociopathic, alien invader!!_”

Oh he was up to something alright. Zim was definitely up to something! He just knew it.

“Dib.” His history teacher called out, “Stop grinding your teeth together. I’d hate to give the class a sudden pop quiz on the Ptolemy dynasty. Oh- what the heck. It doesn’t involve me. I’ll just hand them out to you anyway.”

The class erupted into a roar of, booing and declarations of how much Dib sucked as wads of paper balls were lobbed at his head. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about it either, he’d been looking forward to sleeping in! All well, at least _he_ actually took the time to study up on ancient Egyptian civilization. Who was wasting their life studying the origins of the occult now, huh?

***

His next period didn’t leave him quite so lucky. It was one of the few classes in the day he shared with Zim. He’d originally wanted to schedule as many blocks together as he could with the Irken. Though looking back on it now, he was kind of glad he only managed to land two. Their first class together being English. Later, chemistry.

Dib sauntered towards the back, and Zim followed. The human knew where he’d sit too. Right next to him, exactly to the right of him. No matter what, it was just where he’d always planted himself. Dib tried testing him once by sitting as far to the left row of desks as he could, but that only prompted Zim to sit directly behind him. If the alien couldn’t sit behind him, he’d just dump Dibs’ things onto the floor and tell him he had to move.

The shouting match that inevitably came about that day quickly devolved into the two of them taking each others things and flinging them out the window. Peace treaties often made for some very creative fighting techniques. That was last year however, and the pair were steadily growing used to- well, being civil. As civil as enemies could be. Another piece of paper was lobbed his way. Though thankfully, it was a neatly folded up note rather than a careless wad.

He glanced toward Zim who stared ahead, innocently bored. The paper he’d been handed was folded about in the usual way. Neat and pretty, with every fold showing off a needlessly meticulous design. Zim liked using origami-like ways to fold his notes, and the para-scientist had to try his best not to rip them. He unraveled the note and read what was written inside.

“_I was informed by Keef of this hanging out. It is apparently harmless._” It stated.

Zims’ hand writing always looked so smooth and flowy. Dib noticed his careful attention to written English. Every word was chosen specifically and thoughtfully. Considering it wasn’t his first language, the human could admit that he was impressed. He far more carelessly scribbled out his reply.

“_W__asn’t really my idea. Gaz __took __my phone. __She __texted you that__._”

He refolded the paper, nowhere near as neatly, and handed it back to Zim. He looked it over confused before he and glanced over toward the para-scientist.

“Do you-” Zim tried.

“Shssh!” The human reminded as he raised a finger to his lips.

Dib cautiously sat up straight as the teacher took an interest towards their general direction. Zim followed suit, grinning innocently from antennae to hidden antennae. Once the old man turned back to his chalkboard, the alien quickly jotted down his question. He erased something along the way but quickly passed the note back to Dib. The human flipped the paper open reading the new message.

“_Does that mean you change your mind_?”

He could make out the question, “Did I do something wrong?” right beside it. Dib almost felt kind of bad. Sneaking glances toward the Irken he actually seemed, disappointed? Was he was just reading into things? Possibly. Dib could deny wanting to be around Zim in friendly terms.

Although, he couldn’t deny how nervous he was about the situation. That alone made things difficult. After all, if he was nervous about hanging out, and he knew Zim was too. Well, crap. Maybe they _did_ want to do this. Dib wrote down his response.

“_No. I wa__nt to__ hang out later._”

The Irken read his response. The tension in his brow softened, and for a brief moment he smiled. It didn’t last long, and soon the simple smile was replaced with his usual confident smirk. He passed back his reply with his usual puff of pride restored.

“_Of course you do. Who wouldn’t want to be in Zims’ presence?_”

Dib chuckled to himself as he rolled his eyes. That little jerk. He couldn’t wait to burst his bubble, and bring him crashing right back down to Earth. He got busy thinking, and managed a good burn. Satisfied, he passed the note back to the alien with a smirk of his own. Zim read it and scowled before grinning with mad zeal and responding back.

Oh. It was on.

***

The para-scientist found himself bored with math. When was that ever new? There was nothing else he could do but power through it. Even if the specifics were beginning to make less and less sense to him. Dibs’ eyes glazed at the formulas on the chalkboard with growing disinterest. He wondered what Zim was doing in art.

***

Finally it was time for some lunch. There might not have been eatable food to look forward to but at least they’d have the next forty minuets away from classes. He felt relieved, until he remembered. He and his sister got into a fight this morning, didn’t they? The para-scientist supposed he’d have to find somewhere else to sit for today. When Gaz was upset, it usually lasted.

Dib collected his tray of um, “food” and went to find an empty table.

“There you are. Finally.” Dib heard from behind him.

Zim snatched the human by his coat, and dragged him by the sleeve to their usual table. Dib had a perfectly good pair of legs. Why was everyone so determined to have them go to waste today?

“You are always making Zim wait for you.” The Irken griped as he led Dib down the cafeteria, “I don’t even _want_ to wait for you!”

“Then don’t.” Dib flatly replied.

“_Rssck,_”

“Zim, every time you say that you sound like either an old timey villain or an anime girl who can’t admit her feelings. And I don’t like that it’s usually the latter.”

The alien scoffed at him.

“Considering I was alive before your fathers father was even born, I am clearly this, old timey villain and not some animoo girl.”

“It’s anim- you know what? Never mind. That’s not important.” The human relented, “Zim, I can’t sit with Gaz today. We got into a fight this morning and she’s still gonna be mad at me.”

“Very interesting. I don’t care.” The Irken declared, nearing the table.

Dib tried to pry away his arm but to no avail. At least to no avail that didn’t cost him his coat. He wasn’t about to spend another evening getting his fingers pricked over a piece of clothing.

“No seriously. Let go! Zim!-”

“Well, look who it is. You know I’m still mad at you right?”

Dib didn’t say a word. He simply gestured toward the alien, who was clearly still attached to his arm. Zim held onto Dib with both hands, his claws preened and ready to pierce should the human move unfavorably. If it weren’t for the threat of mutilation Dib could almost see the gesture as, and he shuddered internally at the thought, _sweet_. Like Zim was trying to lovingly threaten him. The feeling of his claws pressing ever so subtly into his sleeve brought him out of his anime protagonist nightmare.

“Zim, you don’t have to drag my idiot brother with you to sit over here. You can sit where you want.” Gaz clarified.

“I knew that.” The Irken declared, annoyed.

“You seem so sure.” Dib retorted.

“Silence!” Zim declared.

His sister ignored the two as she went to town on a pb and j she’d brought from home. Zim sat Dib down beside his sister, his usual spot. While he sat himself down in front of the two siblings, the others’ usual spot. Dib did his best to focus on his tray and not the dead air at the table as he awkwardly fiddled with his apple. It was the only thing he felt at least half-way comfortable eating. Can’t screw up something you don’t cook, after all.

He took one bite, and immediately regretted it. Why was it filled with meat?! Dib hacked up the supposed fruit in a desperate attempt to spare himself of the awful flavor.

“It’s anti-vegan day. Idiot.” His sister answered unprompted.

As he coughed up chunks of mystery meat, he noticed his phone buzzing. He flipped it open to find a message. It was from Zim.

“_What are you doing_?”- IZ_overlord01

The overwhelming concern was very touching.

“_choking you jerk_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_No. Why are you not fixing things with the sister?_”- IZ_overlord01

Fixing things with his sister? Since when does Zim care about the two of them fighting? If anything, he usually encouraged Dibs’ sister to get angrier.

"_what are you talking about?_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_How are we supposed to do the hanging out if your sister is angry with you?_”- IZ_overlord01

Dib wasn’t sure what that had to do with anything.

“_why would gaz be there?_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

He could see Zim becoming frustrated with him from across the table and he waited for the flurry of texts that was soon to come.

“_Because we are hanging out?_”- IZ_overlord01

“_As friends do._”- IZ_overlord01

“_That is what you described._”- IZ_overlord01

“_Obviously._”- IZ_overlord01

He hated when the alien did that. Even when they weren’t physically talking the other felt the need to drive the entire conversation and honestly, texting just made it worse. For a creature with only three fingers, he sure knew how to use them. Dib could feel himself smiling despite himself. Stupid easy jokes. He shouldn’t be making fun innuendos where Zim was involved. That was weird.

“_yeah_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_what does that have to do with my sister_?”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_Keef informed me that there __are_ _different__ forms of hanging out. He separated them into two categorizes._”- IZ_overlord01

Friends and best friends, right? Dib wouldn’t exactly call Zim either, but, none of that mattered right now. This was a one time thing. Just to see how it goes.

“_Hanging out, which is friends._”- IZ_overlord01

He slouched against the table annoyed and wondering why this needed to be explained. That is, until he got the second text.

“_And going out, which is boyfriends._”- IZ_overlord01

Did… did he just read that right? Was this real? Was he awake right now? Or was this another one of those weird dreams and Chicken Foot was about to burst through their cafeteria doors giving away free teeth? He waited- _agonizingly_ waited, but Chicken Foot never came.

Somehow, this was real.

“_I’m sorry- w h a t?_”- ag3nt_mo7hman_see5

“_I don’t understand the difference entirely, but Keef seemed most pleased with the latter._”- IZ_overlord01

“_Did he now?_” Dib thought to himself.

“_If we were to go out, I understand that is __to be __done alone._”- IZ_overlord01

“_Mm hmm,_” The para-scientist internally mused, quietly panicking.

The human could feel his brain cells frying the longer this conversation continued.

“_However if you meant hanging out, we will need the Gaz-Human to properly enact the social function._”- IZ_overlord01

A crippling need for forgiveness, loomed over Dib. Because he would sooner die than go out on a date with Zim; misunderstanding or not. The human sighed. He couldn’t believe he was doing this. Dib stepped away from the table, and stood where his sister could see him. Gaz, glanced up with interest, although clearly still upset.

He hasn’t sung this song since he was seven, he just hoped he remembered the lyrics.

“Gaz, I’m an id~iot. I messed up. I was wrong. On~ly a moron would- sing a dumb song- to say he was wrong.” The para-scientist sang, like the tune of a nursery rhyme.

The cafeteria was in hysterics at this point, but he had to finish it. Dib fell to one knee and threw up his best jazz hands.

“And rhyme the same word twice!”

Yep. If there was any way of salvaging his reputation at this school. It had all but died. Gaz sat up suddenly from the table and bolted. Well, there went his chances of getting his sister to forgive him too. He just could not win today, could he?

“Did your apology not work?” Zim asked.

Dib was surprised. He wasn’t laughing at him?

“Why aren’t _you_ laughing at me?” Dib questioned, “I thought you liked seeing me miserable and humiliated?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dib. I know what an apology song is.” The alien defended, “I don’t understand what your human mates find so hilarious about it.”

Dib sat back down and sank into the table.

“Because we don’t normally do that here on Earth. That was just me being weird.” The human clarified.

“Oh,”

The tables around them continued to snicker amongst themselves. There were still three more hours left to get through today. Three hours. Of this.

“Their noise is grating.” Zim acknowledged, bitterly.

“That’s one way of putting it.” Dib accepted.

It was almost comforting, in a way. Having the alien upset along with him, rather than at him. He lifted his head to find humanoid eyes peering back at him, and when he smiled the Irken smiled back. The doors to the cafeteria slammed back open, causing the laughter to fall silent. From the corner of his eye, Dib could see it was his sister. She walked back to the table and sat down.

The brother shot up from where he was laying and waited for her to talk. He waited, and waited, but nothing was said. Finally she stood with her trash, ready to leave the cafeteria for the playground outside.

“Wait!” Dib called out.

She turned around.

“What?” She asked.

“Look, I’m sorry about this morning. Really. I am.”

Forgetting just trying to avoid things getting weirder than they already were with Zim, he meant it. He knew he was overreacting. More than that, he knew how much this meant for Gaz. Zim is the first person at school she's ever tolerated being around. Though, that was just Gaz speak for, "You and I are friends." Dib would know, she's spent quite a number of years tolerating him too. 

“I’m over it.”

That- was fast. She sounded pretty certain too. Though, he had to be sure.

“Are you?” He asked, carefully.

“Dib, I was being a bitch too. So _I’m_ sorry. There. Now can we move on?”

There was a lot to unpack in that sentence. He was sure this was the first time he’d ever heard his sister curse, but he could get into that later. For now, it felt like his anxiety and stresses had finally lightened. Gaz was right; they didn’t have friends. He really needed to consider that before he let these petty arguments get the better of them. Gaz was capable enough, and she could be friends with whoever she wanted.

“Yeah. Okay.” The brother relented comfortably. “You still wanna go trick or treating?”

She nodded.

“Zim’s coming with us.” He added, “That okay?”

“I’m the one who set it up.” She reminded her brother, “What do you think?”

He shrugged. Just thought he’d ask.

“Hey Zim,” Gaz said turning her attention to Zim.

Once she had his attention she dug through her bag until she found what she was looking for and presented it him.

“You still wanna borrow the game?”

The Irkens eyes lit up as he jumped from the table and hurried toward the Membrane sister.

“Give,” He said simply enough, smiling in wicked delight at the consolation prize for his patience.

Gaz dropped it in his hands. Hands that greedily accepted.

“Don’t break my game, Zim.” She warned.

“I won’t break it.” The Irken insisted, “Besides, even if I did me fixing it would make it better and you know it.”

His sister clenched her fist towards the alien.

“Then I guess you’ll just have to make your spine better too, ‘cause if you break my game; I’ll break you.” She threatened. “Hey, don’t forget the first pendant. You have to go back to the left. It’s hidden behind the painting.”

“I didn’t forget! I knew it was there.” He defended.

“Sure, that’s why you were walking away.”

“I was getting to it!”

She smiled. She was actually smiling. His little sister was happy. Worry from within him warmed at the sight.

“Hey Dib. You just gonna stand there with your tray all day or what?” Gaz called out to him from the doors.

“Hurry up! Zim hates this constant waiting!”

The para-scientist collected himself from his thoughts. He tossed his neglected tray before catching up with the anti-social duo. He watched them from behind as the two laughed and made fun of a cheesy cutscene. Maybe Zim wasn’t a bad friend for his sister. Though the thought had him feeling left out, somehow. He tried to ignore it.

“_Just because they get along __doesn’t mean __we ever could._”

Because he knew Zim. Sooner or later the Irken was bound to get bored. If he did anything stupid now he’d be alone in the fallout. Just thinking about that was already stressful. Dib wanted to trust the truce to be enough to keep things as good as they were so he hoped. Against his better judgment, he hoped it would be enough.


	10. Spooky New Territory (part 2)

Middle School- 7th grade

Zim was led to follow them home, and now he was here. Standing in his arch-rivals’ living room. For as many times as Dib had infiltrated his base, Zim never cared to return the favor. It wouldn’t be difficult to do, considering the last time he tried the Dad-Beast just let him in, but no. Simply put, he knew Dib had nothing to hide.

Zim would know. He’d been in his head after all, and those memories had him hesitate on this whole _Halloween_ affair. Though, after some insightful discussion during their walk the alien had begun to come around. Humans normally expected monies for things like candy but for one night a year they had to offer it for free to children or face untold punishment. Hence the name “Trick or Treat”. The event seemed exciting, or at least it was until Dib declared that they wouldn’t be doing any tricking.

Zim had stood perfectly still by the couch while the Membrane siblings discarded their various belongings. He didn’t know what to do as the two took off their shoes. Should he… remove his too? He was sure he’d read that once. That was a human culture thingy, right? Well, he was in enemy territory now, best to follow their lead.

He unzipped his boots and kicked them off from his feet. They smacked against a wall before gently slumping down to the floor. He glanced back to Dib hoping to gain approval for the action only to have the para-scientist give him an odd look. Why was he looking at him like that? He followed the rules of the humans’ base perfectly! Now his feet were cold, and this was the thanks he got for it?

Zim expected the human to say something, but his attention had turned to the sister. She glared at Dib as she normally did, while the brother looked between her and the boots judging as he did so. Not a word was said and yet somehow the Irken felt as if he were witnessing a heated conversation. Eventually Dib just threw his head back against the couch and grumbled a complaint, but said nothing further. Zim had no idea what sort of strange language he’d just observed and decided not to question it, for now.

“So...” Zim began, not quite used to whatever this was, “what do we do now?”

The Membrane siblings looked between themselves and collectively shrugged.

“I’ve never had anyone over before.” Dib admitted, “People think I’m too weird, so they don’t want to be alone with me.”

“My class is scared of me.” Gaz added.

Of all the humans Zim could have relied on to learn about humanity, he’d been given access to the least human of them he could find.

“Well that’s just great!” The alien distressed, “No one here knows how to do this.”

“It can’t be that hard.” The para-scientist reasoned.

“Do you even know how it’s supposed to work?” Zim questioned.

“Uh no. But-”

Panic overwhelmed the Irken.

“I-I’ve changed my mind. This was clearly a mistake! Zim will return home and we’ll forget this whole thing happened and we don’t have to risk breaking the treaty. So I’ll just-”

“Zim.”

There was a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find it belonged to the sister who stood a couple of steps up the stairs. There was such a comforting look to her face.

“Calm the fuck down, alright.”

“Gaz! You can’t cuss! What if Dad finds out?” Her brother scolded.

“You gonna tell on me? Grow up Dib.” She retorted.

Gaz took a hold of Zims’ arm and led him up the stairs.

“Come on Zim. I’m gonna show you what Halloween’s all about.”

Guess there was no backing out now. The alien allowed himself to be directed by the Gaz-Human to wherever she planned to go. Dib had caught up to the two of them just as she had led him to what he could only guess was her room.

“Sure there’s candy, horror movies, and monsters,” Gaz began, as she headed toward her closet, “but what makes Halloween _Halloween_ are the costumes.”

She showed off a glove with knives that splayed across her fingers. The alien marveled at the strange contraption. A primitive device for sure, and yet so efficient and practical in design. Human ingenuity still managed to find ways of surprising him. Satisfied by his reaction Gaz grabbed several outfits and began tossing them onto the bed. From pointed hats to toy knives filled with liquid blood, she seemed to have it all.

“Humans can wear these? Outside? In front of witnesses? Dib-Thing, I thought you said you were nearly arrested for walking around publicly coated in blood?” Zim recalled.

“Well, _that_ wasn’t on Halloween.” He reminded the alien, “Thank god your blood is pink, Zim. The cop only let me go because I convinced him it was paint.”

“From the paintball sport, if I’m not mistaken.” The Irken remembered.

“Yeah.” The para-scientist remarked, “That helped explain the bruises too.”

“Mm yes. Signing treaties and avoiding arrest.” Zim thoughtfully mused, “I suppose even if you don’t have this whole _friendship_ thing down, at the very least you make quite the convincing negotiator.”

“Uh, thanks. I guess?” The human accepted.

“You’re welcome.”

Suddenly, Zim was handed some clothes.

“Hey, if you two are done recriminating your happy go lucky hack and slasher days go try this on.” Gaz interjected.

“What is it?” Zim questioned, trying to examine the outfit he’d been given.

“Just try it.” She insisted, shoving him toward another room in the house, “Trust me.”

Zim was closed in a small room. He recognized the toilet tucked away in the corner and registered it as a bathroom. A place for privacy, then? Humans sure seemed to value it, as far as dressing and undressing were concerned. He was fine with that. The Irken removed his dress and slipped the costume on in its place.

As long as he was allowed to keep his pants he was fine with whatever. They were comfortable and he’d rather not let his legs freeze in the autumn cold. He climbed up on the sink to reach the mirror and took in his reflection. It was a longer dress than the one he had before, and against the cold that was much appreciated. It came with a large pointy hat and a strange stick wrapped with hay and despite the soft look of the bristles, they were actually quite scratchy. He had no idea what this human creature was meant to be, but whatever it was he liked it.

This costume came with a weapon and before the night was over, he vowed to use it.

“Does it fit?” The sister called out from the other side of the door, “I have some belts if it’s loose.”

It _was_ pretty loose.

“Zim requires a belt.” He confirmed from the other side of the door.

One belt slipped under the door later and the outfit was ready. Zim burst through the door and raced back to Gazs’ room. He pushed the door out of his way and displayed his costume.

“Behold! I am an Earth monster! Fear my prickly tree stick!” The alien announced, jabbing the bristles threateningly towards Dib as he laughed.

“You dressed him up as a witch?” The brother questioned, batting at the broom.

“He’s already green,” Gaz reasoned, “means he doesn’t need makeup.”

The Irken stopped cackling.

“There’s makeup involved?” Zim asked.

“Can be.” The sister answered, “It’s the only time of year I really bother with it.”

The Irken perked up. Finally, an opportunity to test what he’s learned. He started his lessons on human disguises by studying infomercials, but they could only teach him so much. Zim eventually moved on to youtube tutorial videos where he learned of several useful techniques. He’d been waiting for an opportunity to apply what he’s learned and this seemed like his chance.

“This hanging out is a trust exercise, yes?” The alien inquired.

“Yeah,” Gaz answered.

Dib inched forward, putting himself between the Irken and his sister.

“What are you up to Zim?” He asked.

Zim simply swatted him away.

“I’m under treaty,” He reasoned, and plopped down onto the bed beside Gaz.

The alien grinned wickedly towards the sister.

“Where do you keep your make-up?”

***

Dib had been sitting at the kitchen table gently twirling a knife into one of the pumpkins he’d snatched from the counter. It hadn’t been carved into… yet, but the anticipation was killing him. Just because he’d planned to spend the night spying on Zim, didn’t mean he’d forgotten about pumpkin carving. After all, it was his favorite wholesome tradition. Gutting a pumpkin, mutilating it’s corpse, then stuffing the pulpy remains into a pie and eating them. Festive fun for the whole family.

Hey, this was the one time of year he was allowed to let his freak flag fly. He’d be as creepy as he wanted to be.

“Okay, we’re done.” His sister announced from up the stairs.

“Finally,” Dib mumbled, stabbing the pumpkin from the top to hold his knife.

“You know, you don’t have to wear that old puke yellow shirt. I have stuff for you up here too.” She offered.

“Ah but what’s scarier than looking back to how much freakier you were as a little kid, huh?” The brother reasoned.

“That only applies to you, Dib.”

“Fair enough.” He accepted quietly.

He got up from the chair and snatched the spare pumpkins. The third had been for their Dad, but Dib was sure he wouldn’t mind. Or notice for that matter. Best not to let it go to waste.

“Took you guys long enough. I’ve been waiting fo-”

Words left him as he watched Zim. The alien looked about their house, still adjusting to the Membrane home as Dib focused on his eyes. He wore black eye liner that thinly coated his bottom lid, complimenting the cat eyes above. Dib had never noticed how long Zims’ lashes were before and it was hard not to now. Now that they were dark and curled as they fluttered about. A deep dusty purple eye shadow shaded his eyes with a purple lipstick to match.

Dib felt his heart drop, the moment Zims’ eyes landed on him and the para-scientist averted his eyes. He could feel his face burning as he took an interest in the floor.

“Wow Dib. You’re lucky those didn’t land on your feet.”

Gaz was suddenly beside him, scooping up the pumpkins from the floor. Strange, he didn’t remember dropping them. Dib shook his head. He made to renter the kitchen, but hesitated for just a moment. He glanced back up and sure enough, Zim was still there, looking confused. He gave their signature tiny wave from up the stairs.

The para-scientist quickly looked anywhere else.

“Come on Zim. We’re about to um… you know. Carve. The uh… pumpkins.” Dib tried explaining.

He raced towards the kitchen before the Irken could get so much as a word in and plopped himself down. Dib fished his knife from his selected pumpkin. He held it with intent, towards the gourd. Waiting. For what? He wasn’t sure.

“Don’t tell me you’re just gonna stab your pumpkin like a serial killer again.”

Dib glanced towards his sister, giving her outfit an actual once over. She was dressed in a yellow rain raincoat, with one of those clear masks beside her on the table. Probably a reference to some obscure horror movie he’d never heard of before, knowing Gaz. Her make-up was sharp blacks with tints of red. She looked cool. Zim really had a knack for this sort of thing, didn’t he?

“I’m not.” The brother reasoned, focusing back on his pumpkin.

“Because it won’t light up if you don’t actually carve it.” Gaz explained.

“It’s fun though.” The para-scientist pointed out.

“I can’t argue with that.” She agreed, “Just remember what this is about. Old lady Crinklestine told us to tone it down last year. And no one censors me. NO BODY!” His sister declared, brutally stabbing into her own pumpkin.

“Who’s the _real_ serial killer here?” Dib teased.

He smirked as Gaz pried her knife from the pumpkin, glaring at him with a hint of danger.

“So this pumpkin carving,” Zim began causing Dib to startle, “What is the goal here?”

He hadn’t noticed him come up to the table.

“Well,” Gaz began, “You’ve dissected stuff before right?”

“I really don’t want to know that.” Her brother cut in.

“Of course I have.” The alien answered.

“I said I _didn’t_ want to know that.” Dib snapped.

“It’s basically the same thing.” His sister added, ignoring him, “Except the only organ is a goopy blob of seeds.”

“These _seeds_,” The Irken began, copying the membrane siblings movements as he opened his own pumpkin, “what of them? Are they simply thrown away?”

“Most people throw ‘em away,” Gaz answered scooping out her pumpkin, “but we don’t.”

Gaz scooped her seeds into a large green bowl and Dib followed suit with his own. He felt awkward and he didn’t understand why. So Zim was pretty. So what? Because wow that was a big surprise. _Makeup_ _up_ makes people look _pretty_. He wasn’t so insecure that he couldn’t admit that, it was just.

This was Zim drawing his attention. Why _Zim_?

“Oh,” The alien remarked, dumping his own pumpkin fillings into the bowl, “then what do you do with them?”

Dib tried to quiet his sister before she said anything, but once again he was ignored.

“Dib makes some damn good pies out of ‘em.” Gaz answered.

His mind flooded with thoughts as he tried to pick apart what she said. First of all- she really needed to stop cursing! Second- aw, Gaz liked his cooking? At least his pies. He thought he sucked at making pies! Third- he didn’t need _Zim_ knowing he liked to bake and decorate sweets, he was embarrassed with himself enough for tonight!

Dib risked a glance over towards the alien, expecting his enemy to laugh. Instead, the para-scientist nearly choked on his breath. Zim wasn’t just smiling at him. He’d seen Zim smile. Not often, but he’d seen it.

No. Zim was beaming at him.

“You know how to craft Earth sweets?” He inquired, excitedly.

That same heart pounding drop startled Dib out of his breathing.

“Yeah like, last week he made us candy apples.” His sister gushed, “One layer was chocolate. Then caramel. _Then_ he coated the whole thing in this black glitter candy. And _t__hen_ he gave them these little red demon horns and tails using, uh...”

She snapped her fingers as she tried to remember.

“Modeling chocolate.” Dib finished.

“That’s it. Modeling chocolate. It was awesome!”

Dib wasn’t used to his sister saying such nice things about him. He was caught completely off guard and his face grew hot. He knew he was blushing. This was so embarrassing, but also endearing? Dib was overwhelmed.

“I suppose I should expect nothing less than excellence from _Zim’s_ rival.” Zim, noted casually, “I would not normally believe such things without evidence. However, the Gaz-Human has never lied about your aptitude or lack thereof before. I trust her word. Although, if it were possible. Perhaps,”

The Irken sneaked a glance toward their oven, before absentmindedly pressing his forefingers together.

“… I like pie…”

Dib buried his flushed face down into the table. He always knew these two would be the death of him. He just hadn’t expected the stabbings to be gentle. Or welcome.

***

An hour or so later and the three had managed to carve out their pumpkins. Dib wasn’t breaking ground anytime soon with his frightened design. Though, he considered the bloody toy knife poking out from the side and the oozing “blood” to be more than enough to get under old Crinklestines’ skin. Zim tried to carve his pumpkin as accurately to traditional jack o’ lanterns as he could, and somehow that resulted in his pumpkin looking gruesomely gored. Gaz pulled no punches. Rather than make a face, she carved out an image of what looked like a naked guy, with long hair and a weird smile on his face.

“What’s that supposed to be?” Dib asked, trying to pinpoint what horror movie the image was from, but blanking.

He capped up the pumpkin guts and stored them in the fridge for later.

“It’s Angela Baker from Sleepaway Camp. You remember, watching that with me right?”

“Oh!” He remembered, “Is that the one where- wait. Isn’t that a spoiler?”

“What, for a thirty year old movie?” Gaz snarked, “Yeah. Guess it is.”

Dib admired the carving. His sister knew how to do that special kind. The kind where you didn’t even need to cut through the pumpkin. Bits were peeled back to give the light dimension, and when it was lit up it show off what an amazing artist Gaz was. He was proud of her.

“This is amazing.” Dib praised, “And Crinklestines’ gonna hate it.”

“That’s the plan.” His sister noted.

Zim cradled his own pumpkin thoughtfully. Dib managed to get used to him. It wasn’t easy. He found himself drawn to the other the whole time and yet, eventually he relaxed. This wasn’t some stranger all of a sudden. This was still Zim, and he was just as boasting, self centered, and competitive as he always was, makeup or no makeup.

“What do we do with the husks?” The Irken questioned.

“Hold on.” Gaz took a hold of a plastic bag from the counter, “Here,” She pulled out some candles and handed two of them to Zim and Dib, “now all we have to do is put in the candles, light ‘em and stick them outside.”

“Why would humans do this?” The alien asked.

“Well,” Dib began, “the Irish brought the tradition to America and originally carved _turnips_ with faces. Embers were lit inside the turnips to ward off evil spirits and-”

“That’s great Dib,” Gaz remarked, stuffing the para-scientists’ mouth with candy corn.

“Zim. All you need to know is we just do it. That’s it.” Gaz paraphrased.

“Understandable.” Zim accepted.

Dib chewed his candy corn, with little protest. Jokes on her, candy corn was one his favorite Halloween treats and she just gave up hers. He’d consider that a win. The three took their pumpkins and sat them outside. Gaz took a lighter and lit their jack o’ lanterns. With the lanterns lit, they stood back and admired their handy work.

“Wow.” Dib mused thoughtfully, “Our pumpkins really don’t compare to yours, Gaz.”

“Zims’ pumpkin is adequate!” The alien retaliated. “So what if the Gaz-Human is remarkably talented? The rules of this competition specify carving a face. Not a body! Therefore she fails this challenge by default!”

“It wasn’t a challenge.” Dib remarked.

“That is where you are wrong. It is always a challenge when facing Zim.” The Irken boasted.

“It’s certainly a challenge, alright. Just not the way your thinking it is.” Dib retorted.

After locking the door, Gaz took a hold of the two and dragged them toward the sidewalk.

“Come on already. Lets go! I wanna hit all the good houses before they run out of candy.”

The streets were lined with children. Devils and princesses were plentiful as their parents walked them down the streets. The wind had picked up some, causing the empty trees to stir as they wrestled about above. Leaves heaped in piles under their feet and brought about that ever satisfying crunch with each step the three took. Dib glanced back towards their house as he remembered.

“Wait, what about the bags?” He asked.

“I already took care of that.” Gaz said, pulling them out from her coat pocket. “Now move it! Mr. Henderson’s divorced. He’s giving out full size bars so his kids will like him more and I’m taking advantage of it.”

“Wow Gaz.” Dib replied, disappointed but not surprised.

“Indeed, wow.” The Irken agreed, “Perhaps if we pretend to be the friends of his smeets he will believe we are in a position to grant him better favor. Therefore giving _us_ more candy.”

“I like the way you think, Zim.” Gaz commended.

“I’m beginning to question if letting you be friends with my sister was a good idea.” Dib sighed.

“Oh poor Earth-Smelly. Of course it wasn’t.” Zim confessed, “Now that she and I are aligned it’s only a matter of time before this planet faces it’s doom!”

“Pass. I’m not interested in global conquest.” Gaz replied, dismissively.

“Ah, well. Suit yourself.” The alien accepted. “That leaves more dominating of this planet for me then.”

“That’s _if_, you dominate this planet.” The para-scientist challenged.

“I will one day Dib.” Zim declared.

Dib poked his finger into the aliens’ chest.

“Not if I stop you.”

The alien jabbed his finger back.

“Not if I stop _you_ from stopping me.”

Dib poked his finger again.

“Not if I stop you from stopping me from stopping you, Zim!”

“Girls stop. You’re both pretty.” His sister cut in. “Now can we focus.”

Zim crossed his arms in a huff, while Dib took a hold of his left arm awkwardly, looking away. Gaz smacked at her brothers chest with the bags gaining back his attention.

“Up ahead. There’s the house.” Gaz informed.

She passed them their bags and ran up the sidewalk to Mr. Hendersons’ door. Zim tried to follow her but Dib stopped him, grabbing his shoulder.

“What is the meaning of-”

“Zim look,” The human cut in, “I know we’re used to fighting and all. I get that. I slipped back into it too.”

“What are you talking about?” The Irken questioned.

“I’m talking about Gaz. Tonight's really important for her, alright. So let’s just… let’s try not to argue so much. Just for tonight.”

“But you started it.” Zim argued.

“I did.” Dim admitted.

That seemed to surprise the alien.

“I accept that.”

It felt weird to say, like a part of him were apologizing for defending the Earth, but he knew that wasn’t what this was about.

“Gaz wanted this.” Dib stated clearly, “She wants to be friends with you. I don’t know if you really understand what that means but-”

“Of course I do.” Zim quickly interjected, “I could have simply dated you and fulfilled the transaction we had agreed upon, but I’d _wanted_ to see the Gaz-Human too. That’s why I’d hoped this would be the hanging out. Because Zim views her as a friend and wanted to do as the friend-things do.”

A tired smile graced the para-scientists face as he listened. Well, they both cared for Gaz. That was at least one thing they had in common.

“Just… making sure.”

“So. The candy.” Zim motioned, gesturing towards the house.

“Right.”

The two made their way over as the leaves crinkled at their feet.

“By the way.” Dib added, “Your make up. I like it. You uh, you do good with that stuff. Looks cool.”

“Zim knows,” The Irken spoke confidently, before adding, “… but thanks.”

The two walked comfortably along the sidewalk together. Neither in any sort of rush to catch up.

“I...” Zim hesitantly began, “suppose you were right. About Zim’s gourd fruit. Perhaps I should have created a design of my own instead.”

“No no, I wasn’t trying to say anything bad about your pumpkin Zim.” Dib said as he lamented his phrasing, “I actually kinda like it. The little scrapes and nicks make it look like a happy jack o’ lantern that survived a murder attempt. Fits the holiday spirit.”

As he said this a bloody shriek pierced the air.

“_Speaking of festive._” Dib thought to himself.

“You think so?” The alien questioned hopefully.

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

The tension they carried seemed to bend and break, they even smiled at one another. That strange feeling crept over Dib again however, this time he didn’t feel left out. He felt like he was apart of it now. He knew this was only for tonight but that was okay. He’d let himself pretend that they were friends too. Before Zim and Dib had reached the door, Gaz was pushing past the two.

She had a bowl of candy in her hands and was booking it.

“Gaz?” Dib questioned as he followed his sister.

“I saw my opportunity and I took it!” She explained, “Let’s get out of here before he realizes the knife wasn’t covered in real blood.”

“Wait that’s a- Why do you have a real knife!?” Her brother shouted.

“Don’t worry.” Gaz reassured, “It’s got a sheath. See?”

She showed off the blade, safely fastened.

“That does _not_ answer the question!”

“Ah! Why didn’t I think of that? If we threaten the humans and harvest the bowls in their entirety we won’t have to share the candies with the other earth children. Brilliant thinking, Gaz-Human!” Zim admired as he kept pace.

“Okay! I take it back. _Y__ou’re_ a bad influence on him!” Dib directed at his sister.

His sister laughed as the three made off into the night, happily clutching her sugary spoils.

***

Their school books seemed to get heavier and heavier with each passing year. Perhaps this was a test of physical and psychological endurance? Zim noted this for later research. As for now, he headed toward the painfully boring math class. What a joke. He was made knowing these basic formulas, and without the Membrane siblings these dreadful forty five minutes were a waste of his time.

As he drudged the hallway his only companion were thoughts of last night. Gaz had started it out right, gaining an entire bowls worth of full sized chocolate bars. He and Dib didn’t even come close to matching that feat by the end of it, though he certainly tried. He may have lost the competition, but at least now he had a months worth of the nerds candies. His favorite Earth delicacy, and in his opinion, it’s _only_ delicacy. The alien supposed with that small victory he’d won after all.

The night wasn’t just victories and candies, however. Unfortunately, they’d bumped into some idiots along the way. Gaz had warned him before of human males and their fears of the “feminine”. Without the boarders of school walls they seemed to be even more aggressive about their opinions. The usual insults were hurled his way. Although, considering they consisted of words the Irken native found to be gibberish, he paid it no mind.

He hadn’t expected Dib to step in like that, though.

“_Leave him alone! He’s _my_ mortal enemy and he can wear whatever the hell he wants!_”

These teens had been much larger than the three of them. Zim wondered if they were even teens at all. They looked like they could have been older. Though he couldn’t tell from behind their masks.

“_Shut-up __ya little __creep. What are you gonna do about it anyway, huh?_”

“_Oh I’m a creep alright._” Zim remembered that twisted grin, “_Did you know you can’t breathe and swallow at the same time?_”

“_Hey, look what I got._” Gaz had said when she flashed her knife, “_I wonder if __that’s__ true..._”

“_Should we find out?_”

They’d stalked off after that. Zim didn’t know why Dib and Gaz done it. He was perfectly capable of defending himself should he needed to. They both knew that, and yet they stood their ground for him. What would make them do such a thing? He could only speculate and wonder.

Zim supposed it wasn’t too strange to think that the Gaz-Human might defend him. The two had accepted the title of friends last night and he was rather pleased with that. That just left Dib. As he thought of the para-scientist he noticed him peering out the doorway of his math class.

“Eh, what is the Dib-Beast up to?” The Irken pondered aloud.

He shouldn’t be in _his_ class. The human took history this period. Dib ran out of the classroom and seemed to head towards his own. The alien peered down the hall and sure enough he saw those familiar coat tails slipping past the door to history. So, it was back to their usual rivalry then? Well, time to see what the human had schemed this time.

As he entered the classroom, his classmates were a buzz about the night before. They talked of candy, costumes, and parties. Zim paid them no mind. A small gathering collected near his desk, allowing his imagination to stir as he listened to faint bits of conversation.

“What’s that all about?”

“Looks good.”

“I want it!”

“No way! That Dib kid made it. He probably filled it with his toenails or something.”

Zim shoved them away clearing them from his seat, and sure enough something had been left there. A small box, with a note. He harshly shooed the school children away only to notice their eyes still lingered on him. The alien grumbled, he hated it when they stared.

“Hey! Look at that!” Zim diverted towards the door.

The class took an intimidate notice, allowing the Irken enough time to open his pak legs and hurl a lit box of fireworks through the window. The sound shattering glass along with the cracks and fizzles of fireworks drew their attention away from the door and out the window. They awed and marveled at the light show, finally leaving him alone. Zim peered at the box thoughtfully. It was orange with a black ribbon tied at the top. There was a note attached on a string, that he flipped open to read.

“_Last night was interesting. We should do it again soon. Maybe this weekend? -Dib_”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

_ __ _

In smaller writing an additional message was written.

_ __ _

_ __ _

_ __ _

“_P.S. There were leftovers. We don’t normally carve so many pumpkins and I didn’t want it to go to waste. -Again, Dib_”__

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

“_Leftover_?” The Irken questioned, testing the new word, “What is a _leftover_?”

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

He dropped the note and pulled the lid off the top of the box. Inside was a small plate with a slice of pumpkin pie. It was topped with whip cream and little candy corns that poked out along the crust. Zims’ eyes glazed at the tasty treat before him. He wasted no time wrapping up his prize with his tongue as razor zipped teeth tore the pie to shreds. He ate the thing like a starved animal and just like a beast left no evidence the slice of pie had even been there.

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

It was only after he finished it off that he noticed the fork, hidden just beneath the rim of the plate. He shrugged it off. Too late for human manners now. The pie was sweet with a touch of cinnamon spice. The flavor continued to settle on his tongue even when it was gone, like a delightful memory. Zim re-read the note over and over again, and he agreed.

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

Perhaps they should.

_ _ _ __ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The largest chapter yet. Sorry about that guys. I hope it wasn't too long. <3


	11. The Truce

Middle School- 6th grade

Dib needed to breathe, but he had to keep it quiet. The silence of winter in the dead of night made every sound stand out. He’d managed to create some distance between himself and Zim, but it was only enough to catch his breath and to think. As he leaned against the crumbling and abandoned wall, staggering as he did so, dribbling dots of blood leaked from the corner of his mouth. The moment he noticed the mess he did his best to wipe it away. He starred at his hand.

He was actually bleeding. The para-scientist began to wonder the reason but remembered how when he scrunched up his face, and felt the flaring ache of his right cheek. The alien took quite a swing at him earlier. Dib absentmindedly caressed the bruise with his fingers. He winced for a moment, just a moment, but it was enough to let out a sound. That’s how Zim found him; tired, battered, sore and doing his best to not to let the cold snow cascading from the lack of a roof get to him.

Zim wasn’t doing too much better himself. Even with his pak legs supporting him he staggered as he walked. That lead pipe had been convenient when the Irken was choking him, and Dib figured he’d be limping on that left leg for a while afterwards. Under better circumstances the human would have been fascinated to learn that Irken blood was almost a neon pink. However his head was foggy, and he was scrapping himself off the floor again. Zim snarled, and Dib shoved him against the wall.

He hadn’t expected the night to go like this. The Irken sliced his claws down the para-scientist shoulder. Dib hissed as the sharp sensation sliced through both shirt and coat, carving his skin. Things had been so quiet between the two of them lately that if anything, Dib was scared. He punched the alien in the eye, causing Zims’ head to crack back against the bricks. His peers were questioning his resolve.

Doubting him.

“_Guess the weird kids aren’t fighting anymore._”

“_Dib is still a freak, but at least he doesn’t think the green kid’s an alien._”

“_Aliens aren’t real. Even that creep stopped believing in them._”

Dib was a para-scientist. As such, it was his sworn duty to protect humanity from the cryptids that lurked out there. How could he have let his guard down and given the people he’s supposed to be protecting doubt. He hadn’t given up. Dib would never give up! This was what he was born to do!

Zim shoved the human away, knocking him back into the snow. He was frozen there, as he heaved the harsh frigid air of the night into his lungs. So much for his fight. He really didn’t have it in him tonight.

“Y-you look… stupid. Laying in the snow.” The Irken snapped, exhaustively.

They shivered together in the cold.

“What’s the m-matter Zim? You seem to… be having some trouble on-” He took a sharp breath, “that leg.”

“Z-Zim will heal. The same cannot be said of your _pathetic_… worm body Earth-Monkey.”

Dib took him by his pak leg and dragged the alien down, forcing the Irken into the snow beside him. He didn’t expect it to last but to his surprise once he landed in the snow he completely stiffened. Zims’ pak legs retracted, and the alien laid motionless. Dib supposed that would mark this _his_ victory. He sighed.

“Stupid Earth c-cold. S-stupid Earth snow.” The Irken grumbled.

Dib stared up at the stars. They were far enough away from the city to actually see a clear night sky. He normally needed his telescope. There were just so many out tonight.

“What are you waiting for human?”

“Huh?” Dib was startled out of his galaxy trance.

“T-take me to your world leaders.” Zim elaborated, “Split my organs on y-your table and let the Tallest know what a failure I’ve become.”

He supposed that he should.

“Hey Zim?” Dib asked instead.

“What.” Zim answered.

“Why haven’t you just killed me?”

He didn’t receive an answer. Just silent winter and the slight crunch of snow as Dib rocked his feet back and forth. The human glanced over at the alien and watched as he glowered. He was fighting against it, whatever it was he intended to say and Dib glared at him.

“Oh c-come on. It’s not a trick question.” The para-scientist argued, “Just say it’s b-because I amuse you and get it over with.”

“It isn’t t-that. No wait, I mean. Urgh! _Why_?” Zim lifted up his hands and clutched his face.

Dib waited. Eventually, the alien collected himself enough to speak.

“If I’m to answer this question… t-then you must answer Zims’ more important question soon after. I accept n-no other offer. Zim answers you. You answer Zim.”

The human rolled his eyes, only then noticing the crack in his glasses lens. Great. His dad was just going to _love_ that.

“S-sure, I guess. I don’t know why this is such a b-big deal but okay.” Dib relented. “Now will you answer the question?”

Zim turned away from him gazing up at the stars. Dib followed.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.” The Irken finally spoke.

The para-scientist turned his head back to the Irken. The other kept his attention to the stars as he vented.

“I’ve been on Earth for the p-past three years. My Tallest haven’t tried c-contacting me on their own. What am I meant to do? _No one_ believes in me. No one that is,” Zim turned to face Dib, “except you.”

What was he saying? Dib didn’t believe in him. Well, he _believed_ that the Irken existed, but he didn’t believe _in_ him!

“Where did you get that idea from?” The human questioned defensively.

“Deny it all you want.” Zim began, “But whenever I plot. W-whenever I scheme. There you are. Trying to stop me. You p-perceive me as a threat. You perceive what I am c-capable of. No one else has ever given Zim this!”

“W-what are you talking about? Given you what?”

“Respect.” He answered.

Dibs’ hostility quieted for a moment. A pang of empathy struck the para-scientist.

“Now for Zims’ question.”

“Oh right. Uh, what did-”

“What are we still doing here?” He asked bitterly, interrupting the human, “Why haven’t you preformed my autopsy yet?”

Dib felt the words slip out before he could stop them.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

Zim looked at him confused.

“I-I mean uh, what I _meant_ to say was I don’t have any a-anesthesia at the lab currently and it’d be _completely_ unethical to d-dissect a living patient without proper procedure and um-”

“You could have struck me in the head.” Zim realized, noting their fight earlier.

“You were choking me! H-how am I supposed to think when I’m in fight or flight response?”

“You were holding back on me!” The Irken spat offended.

“Was not!”

“Then hit me right now!” The alien demanded.

“No!”

“Why not?”

“I’m not just gonna hit you for no reason.” The para-scientist reasoned.

“Then I’m going to punch you.”

“What?”

“Punch me right now or I'll punch you.” Zim declared.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Zim. I already won.”

“See! See! I knew it! Y-you’re rationalizing! You’re searching for alternative solutions! You don’t _w-__w__ant_ to fight Zim!”

Dib groaned as frustration overwhelmed him. Zim gave him a smug look frustrating him more. As the alien annoyingly declared over and over that he knew it, the human snapped.

“So maybe I don’t!” He finally answered. “I don’t actually want to hurt you. There. H-happy?”

Zim stopped his cheering and the para-scientist could see the alien observing him thoughtfully. Dib folded his arms over his face.

“I’ve been having these nightmares.” He explained, “I cut you open and when I do, you scream. But I don’t hear anything. And in the dream I always saw your blood as gray.”

“Zims’ blood is not gray.” The alien noted.

“I k-know that now, and I’m kinda glad it isn’t.” He removed his arms from his face, “It smelt like… a burnt cat.”

A heavy feeling settled over him, leaving a clawing sensation in his throat at the memory. It mixed that aching sadness with a sinking sick that left his stomach churning. He could feel his eyes prickling and he did his best to will it away. He wasn’t about to cry in front of Zim. The Irken frowned and he almost looked sad himself though, Dib was sure that wasn’t the case. It was more likely that he was still confused.

“And… what does that smell like?” Zim inquired.

“Awful.” Dib replied, huffing a tired laugh, “Just the worst.”

“W-what is a nightmare?” The Irken asked.

“Oh, that’s right,” Dib remembered, “y-you don’t have to s-sleep.”

“You c-choose to have these nightmares while you go unconscious?” The alien questioned, as he tried to understand.

“More like, I have no choice. The thought of c-cutting you open… scares me.” The human admitted, “And that manifests into my subconscious.”

“I see.” Zim regarded, “Then, you fear this outcome?”

Dib sighed.

“Yeah. I do.”

Zim sighed himself and nothing was said for a while. The ground was cold and he was growing numb, but Dib would rather not let the aches and pains come back so soon. His breath came out in foggy puffs, reminding him of the times he and his sister used to pretend they were dragons. Why was everyone else so boring pretending to be smokers when they could be dragons? He’d choose being a dragon any day.

“Zim.”

“Yes human.”

The two paid the other no mind. Their gaze collectively turned skyward.

“Let’s call a truce.” Dib offered, “I stop trying to expose you. You stop trying to take over the Earth.”

“Neither of us wins, so neither of us loses.” Zim elaborated.

“Exactly.” The para-scientist sat up, “A double loser truce. What do you say?”

Zim followed, sitting up slowly. Dib extended his hand and watched as the Irken studied it cautiously.

“I suppose I’d like to _study_ the Earth for longer.” He reasoned, “V-very well. Zim accepts.”

Alien palm met human palm as the two shook hands. Dib laughed awkwardly, not sure how to feel. The Irken grinned back at him and before the para-scientist had a chance to gauge the intent of that smile, Zim suddenly gripped at his hand. The tighter hold startling the human.

“Now h-help Zim out of the snow! I hate your Earth weather.”

The alien was shivering looking miserable in the cold.

“Oh. Of course.”

The para-scientist supposed he had to help his enemy now. Treaty and all. Less than a minuet in and things were already weird. Dib fished him out of the snow and the Irken leaned himself onto him. He shivered harshly against the human.

“Uh-”

“B-by the Tallest Dib! Do you honestly expect me to w-walk on this leg?” Zim questioned.

“No.” Dib answered.

“Then help me walk Earth-Smelly!” He demanded.

The human hoisted Zim up and slung the aliens’ arm around his shoulder.

“First off, if we’re under t-treaty,” He began as the two began their slow walk through the snow and out of the abandoned building, “You can’t call me Earth-Smelly anymore.”

“What?! Completely unacceptable!” Zim cried out.

“We need to treat each other equally.” Dib reasoned, “D-derogative nicknames aren’t equal.”

“What about Earth-Monkey?” The Irken suggested as they made it to the sidewalk.

“No.”

“Stink-Pig?”

Dib shook his head.

“Unh-uh.”

“Worm-Baby?” He inquired with a smile.

“Now you’re just trying to be mean.” The human retaliated, smirking back at the other.

Zim continued to rattle off suggestions as Dib walked him home. Once they’d made it to Zims’ base his house seemed to take it from there. Metal wires scooped the alien out of his hold and in through the door. Before he left, the Irken waved at him in that same awkward way Dib had the last time he was here. Dib returned the gesture as the door began to close, leaving the para-scientist on his own. He followed the sidewalk as he made his way back home.

So much to process, but at the very least so much time as well. They settled on a treaty. He never thought someone like Zim would agree to that sort of thing. The suggestion was kind of a long shot, but he was glad he went for it. Maybe now his nightmares would settle and he could get back to his regularly scheduled insomnia instead. Yeah, things are finally looking up.

The small whir of a siren caused Dib to stop. The para-scientist through back his head and groaned a pained sighed. Flashes of red and blue danced against his closed eyes. Things _were_ looking up. A flashlight was shone in his face.

“Now hold it son,” The officer began, “just what the devil happened to you?”

“_A devil who replaced his horns __with__ a set of antennae __that’s what__._”

Dib racked his brain for a reasonable answer. Normally he’d just let the kind officer know that he fought an alien. Although, considering the last time he tried that he was thrown into a padded cell, maybe their treaty couldn’t have come at a better time. He fumbled with his coat trying to think, and as he did he couldn’t help but notice Zims’ bright pink blood spattered on it. An idea formed in his head and he grinned.

“Have I got a story for you.”


	12. The Beach Episode

High School- 9th grade

The human had a long way to go before he perfected parallel parking in the voot cruiser, but at least they had the whole summer to practice. That is until the dreaded tenth grade began. Zim's phone rang suddenly, playing the end credits theme Longing from Aphotic Spirits II. He paused his work and was surprised to see it was a call. Strange, Gaz normally texted. He answered the phone.

“Transmission successful. This is Zim.”

“I’m gonna need you to pick me up. Now.”

He would ask why but he could hear the noise from his end of the phone.

“Well this is _Dib _Membrane. And _I’ll _let the fucking microwave beep if I goddamn well want to!”

“That isn’t the point, son. And cease your needless cursing!”

“_Oh _don’t you fucking start! You’re always-”

“Like, right now.” Gaz clarified, cutting in.

Zim set down his tools, with little protest and wiped the oil from his hands.

“Very well. I’ll be there shortly.”

***

“They’ve been at each other's throats since this morning! Ugh! I haven’t even been able to- Oh! The frills are good. Two pieces definitely work on you.”

Zim twirled a bit in the bikini. The stores had come to know them as a bunch of freeloaders. Just trying on outfits for the hell of it. The two rarely ever bought anything and yet they were never thrown out. Zim savored the dread he brought upon the various shopkeepers while Gaz sat back in her chair, choosing to focus on slaying vampire piggies instead.

“Not liking the color though.” Gaz admitted, multitasking between her game and their bikini shopping.

The alien glanced down. He didn’t care too much for yellow either. So, back to the drawing board. Zim marched into the changing booth.

“And Dib was just _sitting _there too. I watched him. He stayed on the couch when all of a sudden- _Beep_!- _Beep_!- _Beep_!-” She bellowed loudly, upsetting the other customers, “he just fuckin’ lets it go off! Dib _knows_ how much Dad hates letting the microwave beep. And I won’t usually say this about Dad but, he’s kinda right. At least about this. I mean, who _doesn’t_ find the microwave annoying?”

The stress was getting to her too. Zim could tell. He could hear her fingers pounding harshly against the buttons from his dressing booth.

“Apparently Gir.” He answered, while trying another bathing suit, “He once set that grading sound as my ringtone. I asked him why and he said it was because it reminded him of burritos.”

“Fuck that.” The Membrane sister declared.

“Indeed. Fuck to that notion, entirely.” The alien agreed.

“Dib just needs some time away from the house.” She summed up, “Shit. We could both stand to leave. Just go away for a while. You know?”

Zim stepped out of the booth yet again, and waited to be graded by Gazs’ calculating gaze. She gave it a thoughtful once over before shaking her head.

“Are the circles a bit much?” He questioned, pointing down at the outfit.

“That’s gonna be a hard pass on the poke-a-dots.” She critiqued.

Once more to the changing room then.

“You know,” Zim elaborated as he dug through the remaining swimsuits, “I’ve been on Earth for nearly seven years and I’ve only ever seen _your _city.”

Zim found his favorite and swapped it on. He’d wanted to save the best for last.

“Really? Is that a fact?” Gaz mused, already guessing what the other was getting at.

The alien presented himself, and was quite pleased by the jaw drop he received in response.

“You wouldn’t happen to have an idea where on Earth I could show this off now, would you?”

Gaz smirked.

“Yeah. I think I know just the place.”

***

It's been nearly an hour. Zim and Gaz refused to tell Dib what was going on or where they were going. Even Gir was surprisingly tight lipped about it. Dibs’ leg bounced about as he grew restless. What were they plotting? His brow furrowed in thought and managed to worsen his headache. A leftover reminder of his shoddy morning.

Well, _Dib loved _letting the microwave beep. _Dib _didn’t __want__ to study polymorphic genetics, or build everlasting energy sources. Or make useless shit like super toast. _Dib _thinks _his _research is valid! _Dib _is a __paranormal__ __investigator__! Whether _he _liked it or not!

A tiny robot hand patted his knee, dragging him out of his glowering. Gir wore his disguise with the hood down resembling more of a onesie than a disguise and Dib had to admit it; he looked adorable. He glanced down toward the bot, and willed himself to relax for his sake. At least slightly.

“Aw, don’t be mad Mary!” Gir comforted.

“Sorry Gir. I’ll try.” The human relented.

“Can I stick my fingers in your ear holes now! Huh? Huh! They big enough yet?”

The para-scientist gently pushed his tiny paws down as he shook his head.

“No Gir. You can’t stick your fingers in my gauges.”

“Aw,” The robot pouted, disappointed, “Why not?”

“Well, I just got them stretched again and they’re sensitive right now.” Dib reasoned.

Dear old Dad hadn’t liked that. Dib came home late that night and when his Dad asked him what had taken so long he just showed off his ears and headed for bed. Dib figured the only reason he was let off the hook was due to the shock, because his Dad certainly didn’t let it go the next morning. That was fun. Can’t get away with everything the para-scientist supposed. He patted Girs' head reassuringly.

He wasn’t one to be told no so easily. That’s what Zim said. Because that was what Zim _thought_. Dib had his ways. The robot calmed his fussing and accepted that the answer was no.

“Okay,” Gir accepted, sadly, “but what about the other loopies?”

No that is, to the _first _thing he asked to mess with. Gir was stubborn after all, and he pointed to the matching dual set of hoops hooked along the upper rims of his ears. Dib cupped the sides of his head protectively.

“Absolutely not.” The human firmly denied.

“Aw! No fair!” The robot protested. “I wanna touch em’!”

“No way Gir! You nearly ripped them out last time.” Dib reminded.

“I’ll be careful!” He tried, “Promise!”

“You don’t need to play with my earrings, Gir.” Dib gently assured, pushing the curious hands back down, “Now behave.”

“Do I have to?” The robot questioned.

“Yep.” The para-scientist confirmed.

Gir seemed to think it over for a moment, before he simply accepted it.

“Okay!” He declared, looking out the window after losing interest.

Dib chuckled despite himself. How did Zim ever have problems with Gir? He was a good kid. Or well- robot. The human could only guess it had to do with all of Zims’ yelling. Gir really didn’t respond to being yelled at.

The bot let out a shriek suddenly and began to jump up and down in his seat.

“We’re here! We’re here! We’re here!” Gir chanted.

Here apparently, according to the sign was,

“Maui? What?”

“Gaz was that the signal?” Their Irken driver asked.

“Yeah. You can say it now.” His shotgun companion replied.

“SURPRISE!!!” Zim shouted, just a bit too loud and a tad fast.

Dibs’ ears were ringing and it seemed he wasn’t the only one suffering. Gaz didn’t seem particularly fond of the aliens’ screech either.

“We aren’t going to the grocery store at all! You have been _fooled_! Fooled by _Zim_!”

“What trip to the grocery store takes over two hours?” Dib argued.

“SILENCE!” The alien bellowed, before clearing his throat and correcting himself, “Er- that is to say, fret not. I uh-”

Zim stopped suddenly, before whispering into Gazs’ ear. He should have figured his sister was in on this, somehow. She whispered back, and the Irken nodded.

“Right. Now, as I was saying. You have been abducted human,”

Dib sank back into his seat. He blew out a short breath and rolled his eyes as he smiled.

“-and as __my__ prisoner you are under __my__ orders.” The Irken declared.

Sure. He’d play along.

“How could I have let this happen?” Dib dramatically sighed. “Me! Earth's last defense. Bested by the enemy.”

“Ugh, weak.” His sister criticized, as she booed his performance.

“But I’ll never surrender!” The para-scientist boasted, “There’s nothing you could possibly say- no torture you could possibly inflict that could break me!”

The alien managed a decent hiding space for the voot cruiser and parked the ship.

“We shall see about that.” Zim proclaimed as he cloaked their vessel.

Dibs’ sister gagged.

“I think I liked it better when you two were tearing at each other's throats.” She argued.

“Have you procured a map?” Zim asked Gaz.

She fished out her phone and displayed a route she’d created.

“We should be by Luau Bloaty’s. Do you see it?”

“Hmm,” The alien pondered, “I see that we are _here_. Let me think.”

As his sister and Zim planned things out with the map Dib stepped out of the ship and took a look around the sandy city. He’d never set so much as a foot outside of Ohio before. Let alone on an island, surrounded by the ocean. He could see it out in the distance, the waves waiting for them out on the horizon. The seagulls cawed and the winds wafted enticingly with the scent of a fresh salty breeze. Dib breathed in deep and closed his eyes as he felt a freedom he'd never known before.

The sound of Zim shuffling through the storage unit for their things brought him out of the moment. He turned to the Irken and smiled. It really wasn’t fair that even his own people designed their apparatuses against his height. Zim struggled to reach inside the ship as he fished out their things on his own. Dib approached him and offered to help only to have the alien argue with him, though he just ignored him and helped anyway. Zim huffed about it but the human refused to budge, and as he pried the last two bags from the unit out a thought struck him.

“Zim, are you going to be alright here? I mean, is it safe with all the- you know.”

Dib gestured out toward the horizon and the large expanse of ocean that followed. Zim merely shook his head as he brushed off the others' doubts.

“Have no concern over me, human. Zim has prepared for this trip well in advance.”

“But Zim-”

“Silence prisoner!” The Irken proclaimed, “As your captor, I _order _you not to be concerned with matters I tell you not to concern yourself with. Is that clear?”

“Your order. Yes. That sentence. No.” Dib answered, feeling unsure.

Dib wasn’t about to have fun at the expense of Zims’ _safety_. He and Gaz- they didn’t think this through! Dib needed to convince them to go back. This was a bad idea. This was- A pair of tiny alien hands clasped at his shoulders and Dib found magenta eyes staring up at him with determination.

“You can question my perfect mastery of your human English all you want, Dib. Just know that for as long as you are mine; I plan to make this day the _best_ day you have ever known.”

Dibs’ face flushed harshly. His tongue sat heavy and useless in his mouth, foiling any and all attempts he made to speak. His sisters' fist lightly meeting his shoulder broke his focus away from Zim, who had already moved on and was busy readying his disguise. Gaz smiled reassuringly back at him as she dug her Game Slave out from her luggage. Did they even think to pack swimsuits? This was really short notice.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but _I’m _gonna go get a massage.” Gaz informed, pointing a thumb at herself, “I’ve had a crick in my neck for the past three days and it’s been spoiling my marathons.”

“_Ooh_! Paid servitude!” Zim gleefully appraised, “That’s almost as good as the real thing! Come on Dib!”

Dib absently accepted the Irkens’ hand, letting himself be carted away. His mind rattled with anticipation as he took his first steps away from home.

***

“Wait? Your guys’ shoulders aren’t usually stiff? Like, _all the time_? I just thought that was normal.” Dib questioned from the table he was being massaged on.

“That’s because you spend hours a day on those forum sights.” Gaz answered from her own table. “Not to mention, _oh _Brenda marry me.”

There was a light chuckle from above.

“Flattered, but too young honey,” The kindly masseuse replied.

“- Uh, anyway.” Gaz continued, “Not to mention, the way you hunch studying, on your laptop, at the table- It’s like you completely forgot how freakishly tall you got all of a sudden in eighth grade.”

“I don’t hunch! Do I?”

“These stiff boulders say otherwise, kid.” His own masseuse offered.

“Zim?”

“Oh no, you definitely do.” The Irken answered, stuffing his mouth with jelly beans under his table, “It’s a real problem.”

“Why am I only just now learning about this? Jeez, I’m so bad at taking care of myself.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t doubt yourself like that.” His masseuse cheerfully supplied, “It's important to _believe _in yourself if you want to see a difference in your life, and don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you believe again.”

The para-scientist chuckled at the phrasing.

“They’re out there.” Dib replied mystically as he looked at the alien.

The human could see Zim glancing disapprovingly his way. He couldn’t _not _mess with him?

“Oh? Oh! I see what you did there! Believe. Believe in __aliens__. Good one. It’s a cool thought but _as if_, am I right?”

Zim rolled his eyes and Dib couldn’t help but snicker at his expense.

***

“Wow. I can’t believe this is the ocean.”

Dib stood close to the shore. He hadn’t made that ever close trek to the water. Not yet. He wanted to wait for his sister and Zim. They needed to be here, to see this. Dib couldn’t take that first step alone.

“Don’t tell me you're just gonna stand there?”

Dib whipped around to notice Gaz behind him. He wasn’t surprised to find her wearing a black t-shirt and shorts. His sister was practical after all, much like himself. So much like her he wore the exact same t-shirt shorts combo. He'd thought of taking off his shirt, but figured it was best he didn't. Dib wasn’t exactly _pretty _underneath there.

Though the para-scientist was fine with that. He’d just rather not attract attention, is all. Then again, there wasn’t much attention to be had. Zim made sure of that when he’d planted some sort of strange device into the sand around them. Whatever it was it kept the other beach goers at bay so Dib was okay with not picking it apart for study. At least for the time being, though he absolutely planned on goring the tech later.

“So? What do you think?” Dib asked his sister.

“About the ocean?” She clarified.

“Yeah. Neither of us have ever been to the ocean. What do you think? After seeing it for the first time?”

“It’s alright. I guess. Kinda reminds me of the lake.” Gaz mused.

“Lake Punderson? Seriously?” He scoffed.

“Yeah okay, it’s not as pretty as this but you remember the little fishes?” She recalled, “The ones that would nibble at our toes? You used to think they were baby piranhas.”

“My first conspiracy theory.” Dib remembered fondly.

“You almost convinced me too. But maybe that was just because I wanted a tank of piranhas _so badly_! I put piranha tank on my christmas list for so many years.” His sister admitted.

“What were you even planning to do with a piranha tank anyway?”

“Threaten my enemies, duh? What else do you do with a tank of piranhas?”

“You're awful.” The brother chastised.

Gaz stuck her tongue out at Dib inspiring him to punish her for her yet to be committed crimes. He picked her up despite her protests, and twirled her around.

“Dib! What the hell? Put me down you dork!”

“Gaz, as Humanity's defense I cannot ignore the threat you impose on human kind! For the sake of our fellow humans, I must sentence you to death. Death by… piranhas!”

“No! Don’t you dare!”

She laughed despite her best efforts not to as she kicked her legs in protest.

“Zim! Kick his ass before he gets me wet!”

Dib had already lost his grip on Gaz before the Irken could intervene. A good thing considering the two of them were closer to the water than he would have liked Zim to be. He turned around, ready to ask Zim what he thought of Earth's most trademark feature when he stopped. Dib gawked, he starred, he very nearly died. Just what in the hell was Zim wearing?! His sister approached the alien, and slung her arm around his shoulder.

She didn’t even need to say it. That smug grin said more than words could. This was her doing. Dib didn’t know whether he wanted to trail his eyes on Zim, or glare at Gaz. On the one hand, his sister was evil. On the other, Zim was wearing a black crochet high neck bikini.

The stitch on the top was shaped like a seashell across his chest, with material so thin Dib could see flecks of his jade skin from beneath it. The matching bikini bottom was a just a tie string. Simple and so small that the bikini bottom did nothing to hide his hips, and by Cthulhu. Those _hips_. Dib swallowed a dry lump at his throat as he tried to look away.

“So uh, you make sure to get a good coating of paste?” He asked, desperate to change the subject on his mind.

Zim examined himself, twirling about as he checked for missing spots, giving the para-scientist a good look as well. Dib was drawn to his hips, and quite naturally that led him to looking lower. The view from behind was soft and curved, and left the human holding his breath. He imagined how soft Zim would be down _ there_ and was quick to mentally slap himself.

“_Stop that! Get a hold of yourself!_” Dib scolded himself, “_Did you forget this is Zim?_”__

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__

That’s right, it was only Zim. He took a deep breath and relaxed. Just last week this was the same guy who ate spaghetti at his house drenched in syrup, chocolate chips, and marshmallows. He was gross, not cute. Disgusting, not gorgeous. If the human found himself thinking otherwise, he just needed to remember that.

__

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Should be easy enough. Right?

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“So this is the ocean.”

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Dib startled, only now noticing that Zim had taken to standing beside him.

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“The water here is so much clearer than it is at our bases, isn’t it?”

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Dib felt his heart beat pick up, but tried his best not to show it.

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“That’s because it’s not as polluted.” The para-scientist remarked.

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“Unfortunately, it still is.” Zim reminded. "It only _looks _clean_."_

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“Yeah. I guess Earth really is a dirt ball, huh?” Dib accepted.

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He tried to relax but he couldn’t help himself from glancing over. Zim had no navel to speak of it seemed. Dib expected as much.

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“It’s a shame,” The Irken lamented, “I hoped to try your Earth leisurely custom.”

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He caught himself starring just a bit too low again and brought his eyes back up.

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“Huh?” Dib responded absently, trying to focus back on the conversation, “Oh. You mean swimming, right?”

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“Yes. Gir made it seem enjoyable. Although I suppose a bathtub of jelly is hardly the same.”

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The human smiled. Now _that _was gross. Why not just think of that? A nasty tub filled with jelly. Though try as he might, he found himself dwelling on Zim instead. A Zim with no gloves. No leggings. No long sleeve shirts to speak of. Just skin.

__

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__

So much soft delicate skin and Dib wanted to touch it. He reached his hand toward the Irken and placed it on the small of his back. Zim jumped at the contact, causing Dib to rip his hand away. The alien glared at him as he took the humans’ hand back. Dib wasn’t sure what Zim intended to do with it but he’d already decided he’d just let him. He deserved it for pulling something _that_ stupid.

__

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__

Surprisingly however, Zim replaced the humans’ hand against his back. The soft cool of the others' skin sent heat to Dibs'. _Skin_. He was touching actual skin. Not leather or whatever the space equivalent was. He hasn’t felt the Irken this closely since the first time he’d touched his face. That was almost a year ago.__

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

“Honestly. _You _were the one to propose the experiment. Why is it I have to remind you of that so often?”

_ _ __ _ _

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Dibs’ hand stilled. It didn’t feel right calling it that anymore.

_ _ __ _ _

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“Oh. Right. Sorry Zim.”

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“Did you find something?” The Irken questioned curiously, “What did you find? What is it?”

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“Uh um, I-I…” Dib swallowed nervously, “You um, you’re-”

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“Yes? What have you discovered?”

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From behind Zim Dibs’ sister motioned a pushing up gesture with her hands. Silently urging her brother to pick himself back up. He wasn’t sure how much of this Gaz was in on but, it felt encouraging nonetheless. Dib steadied himself. Maybe it was time to be honest.

_ _ __ _ _

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“You,” He glanced back at his sister and she urged him to continue, “I just wanted to say. You look…” Dib muttered the last word illegibly.

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“What?”

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“I said you look…” He muttered the word again.

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“Eh?” The Irken questioned, still unable to pick up what he’d said.

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Gaz waved her arms to gain Dibs’ attention and directed his view to the sand. His eyes followed and he gawked at what she had written down. Gaz gave two enthusiastic thumbs up and a shit eating grin.

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“I’m not saying that.” He mouthed to her as he shook his head.

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Dib ignored her as she stifled her laughter. Zim very nearly looked behind them to see what was going on, but Dib directed the aliens’ head back to himself.

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“Zim I- well, I guess what I _wanted_ to say is-” He tried to steady his nerves, “You know what. I’m just gonna come out and say it.”

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Zim seemed confused but nodded anyway, willing the human to continue.

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“Zim.” His wide eyes were so readable with his contacts on, and that eager expression set Dibs’ nerves right back on fire, “That outfit. I think it makes you look hot. There. I said it. Holy shit, I just said it. Oh shit I actually said it! Oh shit! Shit! Shit!”

_ _ __ _ _

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Dib clutched his head in his hands as panic set in. How was _that _any better than what his sister suggested? A pat to his back called his attention. Dib didn’t straighten up, but the reassuring alien hand still rubbed circles along his spine.

_ _ __ _ _

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“Zim is not hot. I’m actually rather cool at the moment. I am flattered by your concern for my well being, rest assured, but you should already know how this outfit was designed to function. I'm fine. Besides, I already told you not to worry yourself over me.”

_ _ __ _ _

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_ _ __ _ _

Yep. It was just like Dib thought. Zim didn’t know what he was talking about. Dib figured he could live with that. A grumble rippled in the silence. The para-scientist looked up to find the other clutching his waist.

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“I suppose I can quell your doubts of my health with some ice cream. That’s the frozen one right?”

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“Yeah. There’s a food truck just off the beach. Over there actually.”

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Dib could still see it in the distance and pointed helpfully towards the van.

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“You want anything?” Zim asked, already heading over.

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The para-scientists’ nerves had him near puking.

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“Nah. I think I’m good.”

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Zim walked away, leaving Dib alone to awkwardly duck forward. A set of footfalls approached him.

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“You gonna throw up?” Gaz asked, resuming the aliens’ gentle back rub.

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“Maybe.” Dib replied.

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“So you said it right? You told him you like him?”

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“I told him I think he’s hot.”

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“Wow. Okay. And what did he say?”

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“He thought I was talking about the heat.”

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“Damn.” She sighed, “Guess you gotta be more blunt next time.”

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“N-next time?”

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A familiar Irken shout caught Dibs’ attention. Zim stood defensively, brandishing a stick in one hand and an ice cream in the other. He pointed his stick toward the sand.

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“What does this sand want with Zims' cheeks!”

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“_Gaaazz_.” The older brother grumbled, glaring at his little sister.

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“Come on Dib.” She encouraged, pushing her brother forward through the sand, “He asked you a question. I think you better answer him.”

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“Oh you suck.”

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It had been an awkward conversation, but one that eventually had the three laughing about it afterward. Gir turned up eventually. Smelling oddly of seaweed and caramel. The tiny bot chased seagulls around the beach while Zim and Gaz sat in the shade and read. Dib joined him before throwing the Gir into the ocean. He crawled out of the water only to plead for the human to do it again, and how could he say no to that face?

_ _ __ _ _

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They stayed until the sun set. As everyone else gathered their things, the four sat content against the sand. Gir had passed out soon enough and was resting on the Irkens’ lap. Zim scratched his head and leaned his own against Dibs’ shoulder. Gaz slumped back into her brothers' other shoulder, and the three watched the setting sun together. Dib sighed happily.

_ _ __ _ _

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“Thank you guys.” He said, breaking the quiet.

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His sister said nothing, but rested herself more comfortably against him. Zim looped his arm around Dibs’ choosing not to say anything either. The para-scientist smiled. He’d let himself be hugged. Dib knew that was how they liked to say they appreciated him too.

_ _ __ _ _


	13. Splotches on the Wall

The Present-

Gaz had been awake for the past ten minuets, just starring at the clock. Was it really only eight? Eight a.m. and she was already awake. No alarms necessary. Not to mention how rested she felt. Sleep came so much easier for her in space than it ever did back home.

She’d blame the bed. It was so downy and soft that it engulfed her completely. Gaz was surprised to find it had been made for her. No one told her that sure, but it was kind of obvious. Posters of her favorite bands littered the walls and the game station was placed specifically in this room. However, the most damning piece of evidence was the mini art studio that had been set up in the small cabin space.

Neither Zim nor her brother were particularly interested in, or better yet _good _with art. She knew that easel was hers. From the moment Zim snuck up behind her and not so subtly asked if she found it useful. Gaz realized then that she wasn’t an afterthought. She was wanted here. Even if they didn’t come out and say it, at least she knew.

It was finally over. No more back and forth between Zims’ house and hers’ and no more college with visits from Dib every other weekend and holidays. No more walking alone back to that empty house. Her family was finally together all in one place, and no one was going to break them apart again. A string of emotions threaded through as memories came flooding in. Inspiration jolted like static across her fingertips and she needed to paint.

Gaz tossed off the covers and made her way to the easel. She threw on her smock, mixed colors, set up the brushes and primed her canvas. Once the canvas was ready Gaz rinsed the brush she’d used and smacked the excess water from it across the legs of her easel. From the noise her brother began groaning as he tossed about in his bed. Noticing this, she stopped herself. Drying the brush the rest of the way on her smock instead.

“_Guess __it’s still hard for him to sleep__._” She reasoned to herself, “_Man. Insomnia's a bitch._”

She painted her first strokes along the canvas blue. Whenever Gaz thought of her brother, that was the color she always saw. He swore by black, but she could see blue in him. From the rain that held his attention, and it’s alternative clear skies. It was there in his awe of the ocean. Found in dark rooms lit by computer screens, and the tired bags so often resting under his eyes.

Statistically, blue was the most popular color in the world. Back on Earth, that made since, considering how common it was. It represented sunny weather and safe food. Instinctively it was a calming color. However she went with a less popular gray-blue. A cold dark navy hue.

It suited him, she thought. Made her think of storm clouds. The way they thundered and roared, but were often ignored. That is, unless proof of ill tidings was made obvious. It’s not a storm until it rains, so to speak. Yes that color was Dib.

The clank of Irken boots clattered along the metal floor. A distinct sound in the quiet that approached her. Gaz was so focused on her painting she didn’t notice. She only realized she wasn’t alone in the cabin after she heard a creak from her bed. The Membrane sisters’ ears perked at the noise, but other than that she kept painting.

“Is this one your abstracty thingies?” Zim questioned curiously from the bed.

“Probably.” Gaz answered, “I’m feeling nostalgic today. Can’t place it to just one thing, though.”

“It’s very blue.” He observed.

“For now.” She noted.

From the protest of the springs, Gaz could tell Zim had flopped down onto her bed. He was probably bored. She washed her brush and prepared her next color. An easy choice; green. A nice jade shade of green. She let the paint splatter wildly across the canvas, the way she imagined Zim would paint if he were the one holding the brush.

Green was alive and vibrant. Living and adapting, like blades of grass stabbing from the cement. It grows, and it’s ever changing. In a sense, maybe that was the invader way. Even still, there was something in Zim that was different than what the programming in his pak said he should be. The part that made Zim so special and unique.

It was what made them friends to begin with. The alien understood her like few ever had. Apparently, Gaz didn’t know how to function around normal kids. No. _They_ didn’t know how to function around her. She was fine, but they treated her differently. Just because she didn’t understand how to play like they did, laugh like they did, or cry like they did.

She had emotions. She just felt them differently. She had interests. They were just specific and usually narrowed down to one or two things that held her attention. Somehow that pushed people away. Not Zim, though.

He understood her somehow. Maybe it was because he was like her too. He didn’t usually care to talk about things that didn’t interest him either. That didn’t happen all that often between the two of them though. They could talk about video games for hours without getting bored. She never hurt his feelings when she hung up the phone on him suddenly, because he did it too.

They could even sit in a room like they were doing now and not talk. Gaz hated small talk, and so did Zim. She liked that she didn’t have to make up random bullshit just to keep him around. He stayed because he liked the company too. Her best friend was an alien; two things she once thought couldn’t exist. For the longest time Gaz thought she was broken.

Zims’ pak thought the same thing. It said he was riddled with errors; defective. She didn’t believe that garbage. Not only was Zim perfectly fine. To Gaz, he was _better_ than them. Other Irkens hated him for things about himself he couldn’t change, treated him like an idiot just because he’d wanted to do his job, and laughed at him for even trying to succeed.

It pissed her off.

“Are you trying to tear a hole in it? Because if so, the scissors would be more useful for that.” Zim remarked suddenly.

She backed off from the painting and looked at her brush. Yep. That brush was ruined now. The frayed bristles reminded her of Dibs’ tooth brush and made her wonder how he hadn’t shattered his teeth already. She tossed the ruined brush away and fished out a replacement from the pocket of her smock.

“Thinking about your people gets me mad.” She admitted as she continued to paint, a little softer this time around.

“Your fellow humans do the same for me. Zim does not like to think of how cruel they were to you and your brother either.” He said doleful.

Judging from the squeak of leather she heard, she could tell he was wring his hands together. Gaz pulled back from the canvas.

“It’s bullshit.” She went on, “I know it’s over now. But I still get mad about it. It’s stupid.”

“It’s not.” Zim countered, “Thinking back to what happened makes you angry. So be angry.”

She slumped back and folded her arms.

“I don’t want to be angry right now.” Gaz rejected.

“Then think of something else.” He offered.

She tried, but it was hard to distract herself.

“I don’t know what to think about.”

“I know! Do you remember the time you asked me to help you paint your room?”

Gaz scoffed at him lightheartedly.

“I remember the fuckin’ _mess_ you made.” She reiterated.

“It was the first time I had ever been invited into your home,” He regaled.

Gaz listened to his story as she went back to work.

***

Middle School- 6th grade

It had begun. Zim was invited to partake in his first friendship task; helping the Gaz-Human to paint her room. When he asked for a reason why it was thoroughly explained with two words. Just cause. As good a reason as any, the Irken supposed. So now he was off to pay a visit to the Membrane home.

He knocked on the door, only to be greeted by his sworn enemy. Dib glowered at him. Zim glared back.

“Zim.” The human declared disdainfully.

“Greetings Worm-Bo-” He stopped before correcting himself, “I mean, _Dib_.”

“What are you doing at my house? The treaty says-”

“Yes, yes,” The Irken interrupted flippantly with a flick of his wrist, “I am aware of the rules of our _treaty_. However I, _Zim_, am not stalking. I was _invited_ here.”

“By who?” The para-scientist questioned doubtfully.

“You showed up.” Came a voice from the stairs.

The two collectively turned their heads to find Gaz, perched against the railing halfway down the stairs.

“Thought you were gonna bail on me.” She added as she made her way to the door.

“You cannot be serious right now.” Her brother scolded, “How could you invite _him_ into our house! You know he’s an alien, right?”

“Wow Dib. It only took you saying it for the past two years for that to really register to me.” She bitterly sassed.

Dib fixed his glare onto his sister, who returned it.

“Gaz-Human… you are aware-”

He found his wrist suddenly grabbed up by girl as she rolled her eyes.

“That was sarcasm Zim. I know you’re an alien. Now come on, let’s go to my room.”

Zim was guided up the stairs by Gaz. He turned and glanced back to see Dib making a gesture with two fingers between the Irken and his glasses. The alien followed it up by placing a finger under his eye and sticking out his tongue. He snickered at the para-scientists annoyance and carried onward. A mature reaction to be sure. Such was befitting of the mighty Zim.

When they’d made it to her room he noticed how everything was coated with various tarps and plastic trappings leaving the room prepped and ready for this so called _painting_ that they would be doing. Zim tapped his fingers together as he observed the room. He wouldn’t say he was nervous. An Irken soldier was never nervous. Just a little cautious was all.

“So this painting…” Zim began, “How does one accomplish the goal?”

“The goal?” The Membrane sister questioned.

“You know the… paintings. Art as you call it. How is this done?” Zim snatched a brush from the floor, “I assume you,” and he began carefully swiping the bristles along a wall. “do it like this.”

“Sure.” She answered, “If you’re boring.”

Gaz grabbed a gallon of purple paint and splashed it on the wall and when the canister gushed out all it had in it, she dropped it back down onto the floor. It made a harsh clang against the hard wood and Gaz kicked it back to clear the space.

“There. That’s better.”

The Irken marveled at the sight. It was such a mess. Something that should have been filthy and uncouth to him, fascinated him instead.

“I guess I’ll paint this wall. Do whatever you want with the other one.” She said grabbing a spare brush.

Whatever he wanted? Well at school he’d always wanted to squeeze the paint packets. The tiny little tubes with the tinier holes. He grabbed a set of those very same paint packets, red and silver, and sprayed them carelessly against the wall. He laughed maniacally at the mess and attacked the wall with reckless abandon. As soon as he was done Gaz looked over his handy work.

She didn’t say much, just hummed in thought. After a moment of silence, Zim was nudged lightly to the side. Gaz brought out her more delicate brushes and began to mesh out something from what the alien had made. He watched her work, sitting at a coated dresser as he kicked his feet about in the air. Zim glanced away for a moment to look at the purple splatter she had made and was surprised to find a starry night sky instead. There were glimmering stars, patches of clouds, and a tiny log cabin surrounded by woods.

It was surprising to say the least. He thought they were just making messes.

“How does it look?” Gaz asked, taking a step back to look over the piece.

Zim turned his focus back to his own mess only to find it was no longer there. Instead replaced with the image of a human heart, coated in plates of metal. Part flesh, part machine. Almost like him. Somehow she’d taken his splotches and had made something of it. How did she even do it?

“I heard that if you don’t know what to draw using stains as a backdrop helps.” She added, as if reading his mind.

“This is very impressive.”

The words had come out before he could stop them. Praising a human? Surely such a thing should be considered impossible. However here he was, with no interest in taking it back.

“I just used what you left. Mushed it around until it looked like something.” She said dismissively.

He scanned over the twisted wires. The colors she added for depth and highlight. The intricate details of the metal and flesh. A part in him had wanted to say something. Something else, something more, but instead he fell silent. Perhaps it was best not to make a fool of himself in front of the human.

They painted the rest of the room as well, leaving no wall uncoated. For every mess of random blotches Zim had made, Gaz found unique and clever ways to make imagery out of them. His favorite piece being the one on the ceiling. He wasn’t sure what she was going to make out of yellow and blue but the gruesome unblinking eye was certainly interesting. Once they were done, Zim helped her carry the cans outside. It had gotten dark enough that he was sure no one would notice his pak legs so he let them do the heavy work of carting his share of the tins.

Though the pak legs didn’t have a perfect hold on the cans. There was still some paint left in them and it managed to spill out onto the walkway. Large splotches of purple blue and green littered along the sidewalk, splotches he was sure weren’t coming out anytime soon. Zim just shrugged it off. It wasn’t his problem. The paint cans were tossed in the garbage and the two stood silently.

Gaz sat on the sidewalk and Zim sat down with her. It was nice. He listened to the quiet with her. After some time had passed, enjoying the chirping hums of crickets, she got up and tossed a bag of candy his way.

“We’re eating beans tonight. Go home.”

Zim hated beans. He was glad he didn’t have to awkwardly ask to excuse himself. Being told what to do was usually annoying, but he understood she was simply telling him not to linger there. Least he be subjected to the mushy horror that was the bean.

“I’m leaving then.” He announced.

“Okay.” She answered casually.

Zim left for his base, but stopped for a moment. He looked back to find Gaz still there. Seeing him off. The Irken clutched his candy gratefully. She was putting in quite a lot of effort for their friendshippening _thingy _and he wanted to too. What was that phrase human friends said for good-bye?

“Watch you later?” The alien tried.

“That’s not how the saying goes, but sure. You too.” Gaz noted.

Zim smiled anyway. He’d figure it out.

***

The Present-

“I eventually did come to understand the phrase as, “see you later” but by then “watch you later” became more entertaining to say.” Zim concluded, ending his story.

“People thought you were stalking me.” Gaz said, as she added the final touches to her piece, “Not that anyone tried to do anything about it. They just liked to talk.”

“Eh, let the mouth breathers talk.” Zim reasoned, “It was all they were ever good for.”

Gaz was quiet for a moment. She gave it some thought, but she had to know.

“You said you’d wanted to say something. About my art.” She reminded him.

“And you want to know what I would have said, yes?”

“Spill it.”

“Like the beans?” The alien added playfully.

“Are you going to tell me or not?” Gaz questioned, annoyed.

“I don’t see why it’s such a big deal.” He teased.

“Zim.”

He was testing her patience. The Irken sighed, clearly still trying to mess with her, before flopping forward onto the bed.

“Obviously I was going to praise your work to the highest caliber, shame the name of the greatest artists in all of Irken society, and die from the resounding embarrassment that truth would bring soon after.”

He was in a real little shit mood right now, wasn’t he. Gaz began to wash off her brushes.

“I’m supposed to believe it would have literally _killed_ you to have said something nice?”

“Obviously.”

She stepped back to admire her handy work while Zim sat up. Gaz watched him study the piece with interest and let him take his time. Even if she wanted to hear his thoughts, she didn’t want to rush him. Zim hopped out of the bed and walked over to the painting. His fingers seemed to drift toward himself and Dib, depicted closely towards one another. Almost hand in hand.

“I like it.” Zim said simply.

There was something else. Something he’d wanted to add, she was sure. So Gaz waited.

“What do you think?” He asked nervously, “Of me and him?”

“I think you two have waited long enough.” She answered. “I think you should tell him.”

“Eh, _tell_ him?” The Irken questioned with a laugh looking anywhere away from Gaz, “Tell him what? I have no idea what you could possibly be talking about.”

Not him too. Did he really think this was a secret? It was bad enough her brother thought the same damn thing. They were both hopeless.

“You know. That you like him? Love him? You wish to bone? _That_.”

A dark shade of violet stained Zims’ cheeks. He looked like he was going to shout but a gentle stirring from Dib quickly quieted him down. Zim waited for the human in question to go still before he continued.

“Must you put it so crudely.” He whispered harshly.

“Funnier that way.” She answered teasingly.

Zim burred his face into his hands and Gaz laughed. Not cruelly, but it was hard not to tease him a little over it. Her brother had come rushing to her at the first signs of a crush, in a conspiracy fueled panic. Meanwhile her non-biological best friend had waited almost five years to say anything at all. It was a little funny. Still, she placed her hand as comfortingly as she could, rubbing affirmative circles along the Irkens shoulder.

“And you… don’t mind?”

She scoffed at that.

“Of course I don’t. Didn’t I say you we’re gonna be a Membrane eventually anyway?”

He peeked up at that, looking her in the eyes. A realization coming across him.

“That’s what you meant.”

Gaz nodded with the hint of a smirk. Zim glanced carefully around her shoulder at Dib sleeping in his bed before looking back towards her.

“Then… there’s something I’ve been meaning to say. To at least someone.”

He grinned wide as he pulled Gaz close to him and whispered,

“We almost kissed.”

Her eyes widened. She wanted to know everything.


	14. Did You Finish Those Errands?

High School- 11th grade

Dib followed Zim around as he frantically circled about the house. He could see the smile that lingered on the humans' face and he didn’t appreciate it. This was serious! Zim looked for any signs of structural weakness. Broken cameras, uncharged laser gatling guns. If he found so much as a single grid of defense off mark he was going to call the whole trip off.

“Do you know where I keep the spare emergency Earth monies?” Zim questioned again.

“Under the sink. Taped up beside the door.” Dib recalled.

“The access panel for the bases’ self-defenses?”

“On the t.v. remote. It’s the button marked, “_self-defenses_”.”

“And the lockdown code?” The Irken added, suspiciously peeking out the blinds.

“1-2-3-4-5.” The para-scientist recited along with counting it on his fingers, “By the way, you should seriously think about changing that.”

The alien darted away from the window as he checked behind the t.v., under the kitchen table, and even the creepy robot parent closet.

“Hi-ya son!” They declared in unison.

Zim quickly closed the creepy robot parent closet.

“Well, what about-” He stopped suddenly as the human stepped in front of him.

Dib keeled down eye level to Zim. He placed his hands along the Irkens’ tense, hiked up, shoulders. The human wasn’t so insufferably tall this way, and it put the alien at ease. Not that he minded the height. If he were being completely honest. Dib smiled reassuringly, but Zim was hardly convinced.

“Everything’s going to be fine. I’ll make sure Gir is okay. You don’t have to worry about him.”

Dib, as usual, was oblivious. For the sake of the Irkens’ pride, that was a good thing. Despite his beloved minion acting like a child he hardly was one, and was capable of taking care of himself. As for Dib, Zim _knew_ he was smart and self reliant. It just bothered him leaving his para-scientist behind. He wished the human hadn’t talked sense into him and had just come with him but Dib was right.

It was better not to leave the base unguarded. That, and Gir had a tendency of throwing parties when no one was there to stop him. Bringing the robot with him was out of the question. He had a limited amount of monies to work with now that he was a freelance scientist and he knew Gir would just beg for copious amounts of mayonnaise. Mayonnaise that he would then bring home and microwave. Zim shivered in horror at the thought.

“Right. It’s Gir I’m worried about.” The Irken accepted sheepishly.

It was technically true. Though more so it was the mayonnaise he imagined that concerned him. As well as Dib.

“Well don’t.” Dib confidently assured, “I’ve got everything taken care of here.”

Did he? How could anyone really be sure? Confidence was usually just an exaggerated tale-tell sign that things were _not_ taken care of. Zim would know. That sentiment might as well have been his life's motto up until these recent years.

“Maybe it can wait a few more days?” The alien nervously suggested, “Honestly, are essential nutrients really _that_ necessary?”

Dib looked him dead in the eyes, with an expression devoid of humor.

“Zim, if you die on me I’ll kill you myself.”

The alien folded his arms dismissively as he smirked.

“That’s an impossible Schrödinger’s dog scenario, Dib. And therefore makes no sense.”

Zim quickly found himself swept up into a hug.

“I may not be good at making sense,” The human admitted, “but I am _damn_ good at keeping cryptic promises. So just don’t die, alright?… You kind of mean a lot to me. Also, it’s Schrödinger’s cat. Not dog.”

Dib held onto the alien as tightly as he could. Zim was sure if he were human it might have hurt. However, the embrace felt gentle to the Irken soldier and Zim untangled his arms to wrap them around Dib.

“I knew that… and I… _also_ value your continued existence.” He replied fondly.

He didn’t want to let go. Not when it meant leaving. So he held on a little tighter. Dib sat squatted down on the floor, with Zim on the tips of his toes trying to get as close as he could.

“It’s just a few hours.” He reminded the alien.

Zim knew that. It didn’t make this any easier, though. Eventually, he pulled away and headed for the voot cruiser parked on the lawn. As he hopped inside the human was already waving him off in that familiar tiny wave. He returned the gesture reluctantly. There was no avoiding this and he knew it. It was important to restock his supplies and he was already dangerously low on Irken nectar.

He knew he had to go, but it was like the human said. It would only be a couple of hours. That wasn’t so terribly long, right?

***

Zim groaned. His head lolled dully against the seat as he sat stuck behind five light years of traffic. How was it still the same day he’d left? It felt like a week had gone by with all this waiting. Even though it had only been two hours. Why did space even have traffic!?

Maybe he should check up on the human? See if he was okay? Zims’ finger hovered over the keypad but was quickly pulled back. No. That was ridiculous. Dib was fine. He was completely capable of taking care of himself.

Zim sat back in his seat and willed himself to relax. He took in a breath, and slowly released it. His fingers drummed anxiously along the wheel as he focused on the ships ahead. Some music might help relieve his stress, but oh no! The button for the radio was so close to the dial keypad. That’s why the ship was making a call to the base instead.

It was simply a complete accident that wasn’t in any shape or way Zims' intention. Even if it took the accidental press of six individual keys to make that call he’d firmly deny anything else. The screen flickered to life and there was Dib, searching the house in a panicked flurry.

“Gir where did you- Zim!” He seemed to squeak the Irkens’ name.

The human did his best to collect himself as he faced the camera.

“I-I wasn’t expecting you to call so soon.” The para-scientist nervously spoke.

Did he call too soon? Damn it! Dib was onto him. Zim knew he should have waited to call. Of course he noticed how clingy he was being. It was far to obvious.

“Well the reason I am calling you is _very_ important.” He tried to excuse, “I er,”

He looked around the limited view of the living room and noticed Gir hanging from the ceiling, stealthy eating nachos above Dibs’ head.

“I… wanted to see how uh, Gir was doing.”

“Gir?! Y-you want to talk to Gir?” The human panicked.

“Yes.” Zim confirmed.

His minion excitedly waved at him as Dib walked out of frame from the camera. Zim shushed Gir quietly. He didn’t need his poor excuses to be discovered. Dib stepped back into frame holding a bucket wrapped up in a blanket.

“Well, he just fell asleep and he’s been hopped up for hours. I think a little rest might do him some good, you know?”

Zim could feel his lip twitch as he fought back a smile. Though, despite himself he couldn’t help but snort just a little. That had to be the sorriest excuse of a disguise the alien had ever seen in all of his life, and apparently _his_ disguise was bad. If _this_ sad bucket is what constituted as a disguise in Dibs’ book Zim was glad he dressed himself. However, the human was trying his best to pass off this bucket baby as his minion. The least the Irken could do, knowing Gir was safely dangling from the ceiling, was humor him.

“He certainly looks,” He almost laughed, but staved it off again, “inanimate.”

“Yep. He’s conked out.” The para-scientist rapped his fist against the bucket, “Totally asleep.”

How had he never noticed what a horrible liar Dib was? It was funny to the Irken, considering that lying was generally a hobby for himself. His human was far too nice for his own good.

“Okay then. I believe you.”

He could see the human relax at that. Zim looked around the room and noticed that everything seemed fine. Nothing had gone terribly wrong… for now. Dib was safe.

“I’ll let you get back to,” A particularly gooey strand of cheese hung just barely touching the humans' head, “… attending to your duties.” Zim finished, mesmerized by how cheese could even stretch that long.

“Don’t worry! I’ve got everything under control. See you when you get home.”

The alien smiled.

“Good bye, smelly.”

The human smiled back.

“See you soon, space boy.”

The transmission cut just as Gir jumped down from the ceiling. Zim sat back comfortably in his seat as he breathed a sigh of relief. The traffic was already beginning to thin out. Zim would be back at the base soon enough. He would be home.

***

Zim boredly held two jars of off brand Irken based nectar.

“This behavior is completely unacceptable! My little gorbla could have been injured by your negligence!”

He liked cinnamon, but was it really something he wanted to go back to for the next six months? That was an awfully long time for such a strong flavor.

“Ma’am, with all due respect, there are signs marked on the shelves that clearly state how dangerous these shelves can be. For the safety of your spawn-”

Original was out of the question. Too boring. Though he heard marshmallow was good.

“How _dare_ you try and tell _me_ how to raise my offspring! Unacceptable! I _demand_ to speak to your manager!”

Then again, Skoodge also liked lemon. Could he really trust his judgment? What kind of savage goes around liking _lemon _nectar?

“Of course ma’am. Right away ma’am.”

It was between the chocolate nectar and the marshmallow nectar. He only had enough monies for one flavor. Zim pondered on it. Which one? It almost made him laugh. He was really _that _broke right now, wasn’t he?

This stuff was only about the equivalent of a box pack of Earth ramen. Zim knew he should have been more careful. He miscalculated the budget and didn’t realize he needed a restock of nectar. The Irken just thought he had extra splurge monies for the month. Zim wasn’t too worried about it though. It would all be worth it once they finally finished the ship.

“You!”

Oh what the hell. Zim was feeling bold, as usual, and chose marshmallow dumping the jar of chocolate nectar back on the shelf. As he made to grab his thing and leave, out of nowhere he felt a chubby hand clasping his shoulder The Irken turned around to find a goo like creature standing behind him.

“Don’t just stand there!” They declared, “Clean up this mess!”

The mess in question was an aisle slathered in shattered jars of blue Moltaka jelly. A smeet child of some kind was playing with the glass, his gooeyness preventing the shards from hurting him. The child laughed while playing with the glass watching amused as it passed harmlessly through his body. Zim decided to ignore them. He took his nectar and was off to the register.

“Hey! Don’t you ignore me! Do your job and clean this mess up!”

Startled Zim turned around. The gelatinous green mass draped in what looked like a pink sundress, it was hard to tell since it was absorbed into the goo rather than around it, seemed to be talking to him.

“You’re actually talking to me.” He realized, starring back in disbelief.

“Of course I am! And you have been very rude to a perfectly civil woman. That’s it. That is _it_! I’m not leaving this. I have _never_ been so disrespected in all of my life. Someone here had better get a hold of the manager or I swear I am going to corporate!”

There was almost an elated glee that overtook the Irken. It was her. She somehow managed to transcended the space to the outer reaches of the galaxy. _This_ was the infamous Karen he was warned about. The bane of Dib’s retail existence. She was real.

“Yes, _I_ am the manager of this fine establishment. How may I be of assistance?”

She gave him a curious once over, as if having second thoughts on his credibility. Out of the corner of his eye, Zim could see an employee followed by what he assumed was the _real_ manager. The pair stopped, frozen in their tracks. Being an Irken had it’s perks and it carried a certain… reputation. It didn’t matter that his standing amongst the Irken empire was defective, if no one else knew. The store keeps stood back and silently watched.

His Irken reputation didn’t seem to register to the blob however, and that was going to make things fun. She accepted his newly promoted position and proceeded to proudly vent her grievances.

“Well, let’s see,” She began, “there used to be snacks offered at the front gate. They were awful but taking them away entirely is absolutely unacceptable! How could your establishment break trust like this? You set up certain expectations and then you just take them away? And then you’re surprised that my child lashes out? Climbs the shelves. That he makes messes? How could you expect me to attack my child, just because _you_ keep him fussy by not providing him with the snacks that he deserves. Of _course_ he was bound to throw a fit. You have no one to blame but _yourself_.”

Zim could feel all the years he had left in this life beginning to peel away from him. So this was what retail was like. He would never tease the para-scientist about how hard his job was ever again. He knew he wasn’t the right person for this. He needed Dib.

“I am so sorry for your inconvenience, ma’am. If you could wait just one moment, I would be happy to connect you to our headquarters.”

There was a swagger to her pompous air. Zim hadn’t been aware that globs of goo could smirk, but she managed it. She beamed with a pride that, if he worked here, sparkled with the intent to flush his job and any other potential career of his down the drain. He dialed his phone. It answered after the first ring.

“Gir is fine! I found him- er I mean-! I, uh _never_ lost him. Because that would be irresponsible. And as we both know, _I_ am _completely_ responsible and still someone you can trust.”

“Yes, yes, I trust you with my life, et cetera, et cetera. But enough about that!” Zim declared clutching the phone protectively close. “How would you like to be the CEO of Garbeige?”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Did you kill someone?” He asked curtly.

The Irken rolled his eyes.

“Honestly Dib, must you accuse me of murder at every turn?” The alien sharply snapped.

Zim found his silence very rude.

“… Well-”

“Enough of your doubts, Dib-Stink! Now listen. I have met your Karen.”

“Wait.” The human uttered intruded, “No shit? You mean-”

“She is standing here _right_ _now_. As we speak! And every second we waste-”

“You need me to pretend to be the head boss?” Dib interrupted, catching on.

“Yes! Now all you have to do-” He began before the other interjected.

“Give her the phone.”

“Er, um.” He hadn’t expected Dib to take to his plan so readily, “So, you know what to do?”

“Trust me Zim. I know _exactly_ what I’m going to say to her.”

Gazing up at the blob, clearly not pleased with the wait, Zim innocently handed her his phone.

“Mr. Membrane is ready to speak with you.” He announced.

She greedily snatched it from his hands.

“Mr. Membrane, I would just like to start by saying-” She stopped.

Dib had cut her off. Zim watched as her face melted into a series of emotions. He saw her pride melt into anger. Her fury flare into rage. Her rage pool into tears and all while she hadn’t even uttered a single word. The jiggling blob nearly melted into a puddle as she shlorped over the broken glass, cleaning up the floor.

In a fit of tears she grabbed her brats’ hand as he threw a fit and dragged him out of the store. Wads of monies were thrown at the nearest cash register as she made her escape.

“I have been a _valued_ customer. And this is the thanks I…” She blubbered, unable to finish her sentence as she and her hell spawn left the store.

She dropped his phone near the register, and Zim absentmindedly went to pick it up.

“-and your grandchildren will _beg_ me to let _them_ be the ones to _do it_! You-”

“She’s gone Dib.”

He could hear him breathing from the other end of the line. It was heady and intense and Zim had nothing to say as he listened to every rise and fall of breath. Lingering on the sound. It captivated him, strangely enough.

“Oh… sorry about that. Don’t mind what I said about the orphanage burning down. That was… weird. Sorry.”

Zim said the first thing to come to mind, with absolutely no regret.

“Dib have I ever told you how much I love it when you’re evil? Because I do. Very much.”

He could hear a laugh from the other end of the phone.

“You _would_ , wouldn’t you?”

“That’s one of my favorite aspects about you. How you surprise me.” He said, feeling oddly open in such a public place.

Why was he here again? Right. The nectar. He should really get on that.

“I… have to go.” The Irken spoke, as overwhelming sensation of vulnerability crept over him.

“Alright, but try to keep out of any more trouble, Zim.”

Not to mention, that heavy dip in his voice not helping matters.

“I make no promises, human. Except, that I’ll be there soon.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Dib finished, and the call cut off.

Zim held onto the phone as the receiver rung its empty line. Was that a threat? Or a promise? Not that either wasn’t welcome.

***

The trip back gave him room to breathe again. Zim hated intergalactic supermarkets. The ones on Earth may have been filled with gross humans, but at least the sweets were decent. He once thought they were too sweet. Now everything else tastes bitter. He’d blame it on landing in America.

Dib let him in on the secret when he’d brought it up once. That they pump excess sugar into everything. It was why the humans were so large. Corporations created demand for their products by creating addiction. That same model was used for everything to make it addictive, thus enrapturing the common public to the demands of those in power. One of many conspiracy's Dib was passionate about exposing.

Zim let his mind wander and he imagined it. Remembering the way the para-scientists’ eyes would shine with excitement as he spoke about his theories. How his hands flapped happily about while he elaborated on the history of Mothman or Bigfoot. He could listen to Dib ramble about the universe for hours. However, right now he couldn’t. Not when he needed to sleep.

It was just for a few more hours. Then again, it was only one thirty. He wasn’t asleep _now_, right? Maybe he was still awake? No. Otherwise he would have called. So he would just wait for the human to call.

That wouldn’t take too long. Or perhaps it wouldn’t happen at all. Zim could live with that. He said he would be waiting. Not awake. There was a difference.

So that meant, he shouldn’t call. Because that would be rude. If he woke Dib up he’d feel terrible. It was better to let him sleep. Zim could talk with the human tomorrow and- Suddenly the phone rang. The alien scrambled to press the button that would let him receive the transmission.

“You’re awake!” He replied pleasantly, before remembering why a call this late was bad, “Why aren’t you asleep!” He barked instead.

“Okay, so don’t get mad.” He began, as he smiled with those tired eyes.

Zim noticed his cup.

“Are you seriously drinking coffee right now?” He questioned, disapprovingly.

The human sloshed his drink around as he smiled blearily.

“Guilty.” He announced through shameless snickers, “But I made a connection between the California Badger Kids and the Batesmith murders and I couldn’t sleep on it. It’s a connection that I think solves the mystery of what happened to Chloes’ body.”

“We already ruled out cannibalism, didn’t we?” Zim asked.

“Double checked, and still ruled out.” The para-scientist confirmed.

“Then what’s the connection?”

“What if Chloe Batesmith, _is_ the fifth Badger Kid?”

The idea never occurred to Zim. Her body never was found. Also, wasn’t it odd that only one Badger Kid had red hair? And the Batesmiths were known for. Their red hair. The timing of the murders. The sightings of the Badger Kids in 1984 being _in_ Springdale at the time. It was probable.

“What are the dates of the documented sightings for the Badger Kids throughout June 1984?” The Irken asked with insightful intent.

“See.” Dib reiterated, with added clarity, “_Now_ we’re asking the real questions! Chloe is still out there! We could _actually_ find her.”

“I see now why you couldn’t sleep. Tell me everything.”

They poured through their case, reexamining old discovery's together for hours. It only came to an end when Dib crashed on him. Hewas listing a series of dates when his body finally gave up. The poor human was left slumped on the floor with only his torso making it up on the couch. Humans needed to rest eventually, the alien supposed. Coffee and sleeping disorders be damned.

Just as soon, Zim was already clearing through the stratosphere. He was tempted to just crash the voot cruiser and be done with it, but he reasoned with himself. It took about five minutes to park. He could spare five minutes. Zim opened the hatch to his roof parking the cruiser. Having no patience left for the elevator the Irken used his pak legs to descend down the walls of the house.

Zim plopped down in front of the door and let himself in. From the frame of the doorway the sight that greeted him was the same one that was left on screen. Zim took in the glow of the halo cam across Dibs’ face and his soft snores. He closed the door behind him, tossed his boots against the wall and tore off his uniform. From the floor lay several of Dibs’ shirts for him to choose from, and he slipped on the cleanest smelling one. The nectar he’d left for was placed inside the fridge, and with nothing else left to do, Zim walked over to where Dib laid sleeping.

Zim hung up the call, and carefully lifted Dib in his arms. He placed the human down onto the couch. Scooping the blankets from the floor, Zim coated them over Dib and made sure he was properly covered. There was gentle stirring that came from him here and there but other than that, Dib was perfectly asleep. There was work to do, always. However it could wait.

Zim removed his gloves and let his hands wander through human hair as he marveled at its softness. Glancing down toward the humans face he noticed that, yet again, Dib had left his glasses on. He’d forgive him this once. Passing out hardly gives one much notice, but risking his glasses so often was hardly doing Dib any favors. As Zim gently pried his lenses away, he could see those honey coated eyes fluttering to life. He placed the glasses onto the coffee table, while keeping his view to those eyes.

“How di- get -ere?” The other mumbled, grogged by sleep.

“It’s a mystery.” Zim softly snarked. “Perhaps one day you might solve it.”

“Sm-rt ass,” Dib muttered, swatting at the Irken.

“You’re so dumb when you’re tired.” He teased, carding his fingers back through the humans’ hair.

“Wow. Rude. To think I was gonna ask if you wanted to join me under here.”

Zim scoffed at that, but it came out sounding forced.

“What makes you think I want to share your stinky blankets, Dib?”

Despite how exhausted the human looked he still managed a smug smirk.

“So you’d rather wear my stinky shirt?”

Zim jerked back at that. He’d hoped it would be too dark for Dib to notice.

“I’m tired. So _I’m_ going to sleep,” The human announced, shifting more comfortably under the covers, “You do what you want.”

Zim sat on his heels awkwardly, rocking back and forth as he tried to decide what to do. He did have quite a bit of work piled on his desk to catch up on. Especially if he was going to make his savings back any time soon.

“Welcome home, by the way.” Dib added.

Zim shoved the other back against the couch, making room so he could lay down. Dib obliged, snickering as Zim made himself comfortable. The alien chose to ignore him, wrapping his arms around his fiery torso. He felt one of Dib’s hands caressing the back of his head as the other focused along his antenna. The Irken wrapped himself up snugly around Dib as he felt the humans’ grip become loose. Zim knew that he was about to fall back to sleep.

Even when he did, and he was softly snoring again, Zim decided to stay. He was beginning to learn a lot about Dib. They shared many things in common. Some of it good, some of it bad. The most interesting trait they shared was their need to declare what was theirs. Zim declared Dib as _his_ para-scientist. _His_ human. While Dib called this place _his_ home.

He wouldn’t argue with Dib on that. On the contrary, for the first time since he arrived on Earth he could feel it. He wasn’t sure if it was his friends, his family, or his restored sense of self worth, but he didn’t feel quite so isolated here anymore. He could be happy here. In this strange place he didn’t mind calling home.


	15. Of Covenants and Wombs (part 1)

High School- 8th grade

Dib sat hunched over his desk, squinting at the computer screen. He adjusted his glasses starring at the results in confusion. Did he not do it right? He was supposed to have two tissue samples here. One from him and one from his Dad. Yet the computer was reading back the results as if it were the same sample.

He was sure he loaded the data correctly. Did he accidentally scan one sample twice? The para-scientist groaned. It took so much effort to convince his Dad to let him borrow the lab. How was he supposed to explain to him that he needed to borrow it again because he messed up? Dib never hear the end of it.

“You telepathically inquired my assistance?”

Dib startled at the sound of his father's voice, cutting into his thoughts so suddenly from the doorway. He steadied a hand over his heart, calming down from the unexpected intrusion.

“Dad! Don’t scare me like that.”

“Well,” His father began, “my email read your telepathic inquiry ping. So. What is it?”

“Huh?”

“This is about your project, yes? I only have five minuets to spare, so do try to keep this brief.” He reminded.

“Oh, that’s right.” Dib remembered, becoming excited, “I didn’t get a chance to tell you about my biology project earlier.”

“Wait. You needed a sample of my skin tissue for high school biology?” The professor questioned.

“Well no, actually.” Dib admitted, “We were just supposed to get a sample of hair.”

His father looked at him skeptically, as if already knowing where he was going with this. Dib swallowed his nerves and told him anyway.

“B-but I wanted to try my hand at DNA sampling. You know, cause how am I going to look if I find a sample of Bigfoot's DNA and I don’t know what to do with it, am I right?”

Dib looked up at his Dad with a smile and despite not seeing the professors’ face, he knew he was the only one in the room who was smiling. It began to fade in the awkward silence of his father's disappointment.

“I don’t approve of your reasons, but at least this _is_ valid research you should be studying. Go on.”

“Um well, the thing is...”

Dib was already dreading this.

“… I made a… mistake. And I uh, kinda need to borrow the lab. Again.” He said as he rubbed his arm.

“Mistake? What mistake?” His Dad questioned.

Dib pointed towards his computer. Embarrassment setting in, as he waited for the short comings of his work to be listed one by one. However, after a brief observation his father simply nodded. He looked down towards his son, who waited for the worst.

“These results seem to be in order.” He concluded. “This distraction was certainly interesting but I must return to the lab. Keep up the good work, son.”

His father turned to walk away but Dib stopped him, tugging at the tail of his lab coat the way he used to as a small child. His Dad turned back to face him, Dibs confusion being met with his fathers usual stoicism.

“Wait. Don’t you see it? This doesn’t make any sense. I made a mistake.”

“DNA doesn’t lie.” The professor confirmed, trying his best to make it toward the stairs.

Dib continued to clutch onto him, not really thinking about it as he followed his father out of his room.

“There has to be some sort of mistake. I mean- this can’t be right! These results are a genetic impossibility! I know I’m your son, but our DNA shouldn’t be a perfect match! It’s gotta be the trays. I didn’t clean the trays properly. The samples were scanned wrong. This can’t-”

“Dib,” His father turned to him and held up a hand to quiet his son, “I need to get back to work. Now, if you don’t mind.” He said as he tugged his coat firmly away from Dibs’ hands.

Dib stood still for a moment. That left only one solution. However, it was ridiculous. Completely within the realms of science fiction… and yet.

“Dad,” Dib began, as he leaned against the wall of the stairs.

“Yes son, what is it?” The professor asked, completely exasperated.

“… am I a clone?”

His father sighed.

“Yes Dib. You’re a clone. Now can I _please_ get back to work?”

He wasn’t sure what to say. He just nodded his head.

“Thank you.”

His father departed for the basement, leaving Dib on his own. He sat down at the top of the stairs, his eyes tracing the family photos placed along the walls of their house. Three caught his attention and his eyes glued to the most recent one they’d taken together. A photo with Dib, their father, and Gaz. Or was it he, himself and Gaz? He… didn’t know.

He considered that maybe his father finally learned how to tell a joke. Of course, Dib knew better than to think something like that. His father wasn’t renowned across the world for his since of humor, after all. The man was a scientist, and took the profession as serious as the plague. So, that made Dib a clone. A clone blankly staring into nothing who had no idea what to make of that information.

***

The next morning came and Dib was actually excited to go to school for once. He slid down the rails of the stairs laughing, despite slamming his shoulder into the wall across the stairs. He rubbed the sore spot, but the pain hardly wiped the smile from his face.

“_Minus fifteen points_.” An automated system voiced by their father declared, “_Action to be followed by lecture._” A faster voice that wasn’t their fathers noted, “_Son, I am _very_ disappointed in you_.” His Dads’ voice cut back in.

Dib spun around on his heel and made his way towards the kitchen. He snickered to himself as he grabbed a can of spray cheese and a pack of crackers. No need for a healthy breakfast today. He didn’t get any sleep last night. There were three assignments he had due today that he hadn’t bothered to finish, and he was a clone. Everything was going just great!

“Who cares, _Dad_? I’m my own Dad!” Dib declared, spraying cheese wiz at the screen his fathers’ face projected onto.

The para-scientist shoved crackers down his mouth that he coated in a steady tower of cheese. It felt liberating. Especially considering the can was labeled, “_Professor Membrane_”, and guess who _that_ applied to?

“You’re already a barbarian for eating your crackers plain. Now you’re just _trying_ to get me to disown you, adding the cheese like that.”

Dib looked past his chaos to see his sister folding her arms disapprovingly.

“What is going _on_ with you today?” She asked.

“Teen angst. What’s it look like?” He answered with a full mouth.

Was he angry? Was he sad? Was he happy? Hell if he knew. There were too many emotions for him to process and not enough energy to filter them so instead, Dib swallowed his junk food and tossed his spent can of cheese into the garbage. Gaz rolled her eyes as she snatched her bag from the kitchen table.

“Okay, fine. Don’t tell me.” She accepted, “But we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now, so let’s go.”

The para-scientist was carted off at the arm by his sister. Sure, why not. Was she technically his sister? Again, it was hell if he knew anymore. Dib wanted to tell her what happened, or rather, who happened? Was being a clone something that you could describe as _happening_ to you?

He wasn’t sure. That’s just what it felt like, and despite not getting any sleep he felt like he was dreaming. None of this was real. He was going to wake up. Then when he tells his Dad about the weird dream he had, he’ll ask to study him for the next week or so. That way his father can make sure Dib wasn’t convinced of the existence of alternate realities again.

Then everything could go back to being normal. After all, he hasn’t gone to sleep yet and this could all still be just a dream. A freaky, but not nearly as dramatic as he would have expected it to be, dream. Dib took a steadying breath as he headed out the door. Zim was already waiting for them at the sidewalk and the para-scientist smiled with relief. He’d been stuck in worse nightmares. At least for this one he wasn’t alone.

***

“Now look at mine! Look at mine!” The Irken demanded, thrusting his phone in Dib’s face.

He read it before rolling his eyes and pushing the phone back in Zims’ hands.

“As if Mothman is a _real_ moth. He’s more like a demon, Zim.”

“_Ah_, but the joke is that he, being a _moth_ man, would instinctively be drawn to the light. Thus, losing to a common porch light in the event of a sparing match. It’s funny because of how terrifying Mothman's description is here compared to the porch lights description of, “one bright boi”.”

As if to prove his point, Zim began to laugh. Maybe it wasn’t that funny, but his meme was far superior to Dibs’ Bigfoot taco gif. Besides, that Bigfoot was clearly an Earth gorilla merely _labeled_ as Bigfoot, and therefore didn’t count.

“Zim,” Gaz cut in, “we talked about this. Memes are like frogs. And frogs,”

The alien sighed and began to recite, “Die when you dissect them.”

“Yep. Besides, Dib didn’t get it, anyway.”

“I _got_ it.” He retaliated, “I just wanted to make sure all the facts were laid out. Misinformation often starts out as a joke, you know.”

Zim stopped once he’d noticed a rose garden. Roses. Funny things. Flowers in general, actually. He’d never seen them before on Irk. It was said that century's ago Irkens needed flowers for the nectar they provided. Then the invention of paks made organic nectar obsolete.

“It’s a crusty internet meme, Dib. Where facts go to die.”

Of course, that was before his time. Like anyone else back home Zim assumed that flowers, the kind whose nectar was compatible with his kind, had gone extinct. Yet the smell of spring time on Earth was an indescribable luxury. One that drove his instincts wild, and make it difficult to hide his antennae. They poked about from under his wig even now, hoping to smell the enticing fragrances of spring.

“Well joke or not, Zim is impressionable.” The para-scientist reminded her, “And since I’m _technically_ acting as Earths’ ambassador for the Irken race that would make it irresponsible of me to mislead him. Also, Mothman’s kinda important to me, Gaz.”

“Okay, I’m just saying it’s… hey.” Gaz stopped herself noticing a lack of green amongst their trio, “Where did-”

“Zim?” Dib questioned, some distance away from the alien.

The Irken turned to find the Membrane siblings starring at him from a few yards away. Why were they leaving him?

“Don’t leave Zim!” He declared, quickly catching up to the two, “How dare you leave me behind!”

“Dude, you were the one who stopped.” The human criticized.

“Do not “_dude_” me, Dib-Thing! I am free to stop and observe the scents of whatever I wish.”

“Yeah, and I’m free to walk away whenever I want. What’s your point?”

“Treaty rules, Dib. You are to act as my personal escort while here on Earth, and must accompany me-”

“Wherever it might be dangerous.” The para-scientist finished, “Yeah, yeah, I _know_. I kinda had to be there when we _signed_ it. Remember?”

All Gaz had to hear was the word treaty, and the headphones were on. It was too early for their bullshit, right now. If she had to listen to screaming, she’d rather it be heavy metal.

“Well, I was in danger. And where were you?” Zim questioned.

“Danger? Danger of what?”

“Bees obviously!” He stated, baffled he would even have to clarify such a thing.

“Then… _don’t_ stand around flowers? If you’re worried about getting stung?” Dib shot back, as if what he were saying was the obvious solution, “That’s kinda where bees tend to flock.”

“I have nothing to fear, so long as your gross squishy Earth meat protects me, as it should.” The Irken boasted, poking his finger into Dib on the last three words.

His hand was batted away.

“Did _you_ amend that part in clause fifteen c where you refused to cover and protect _me_ from ballistic laser fire?”

“Of course not! I want to live!”

“Well so do I, you jerk!” The human declared, “So don’t try to use me as your human shield!”

Various humans across the street shot them dirty looks. They were clearly unaware the fate of their miserable planet hinged on this very conversation, so Zim paid them no mind.

“I’m not merely _using_ you as a _shield_, human.” He corrected, “I ran by the numbers and _you_ out of any other human are perfect for this task. Your unique qualifications, namely your very large head,” Zim quickly threw in, “make you more than sufficient for protecting such a mighty Irken warrior. You should consider it an honor that I’ve chosen you.”

“You know what Zim?” Dib dryly remarked, “I didn’t even think about it like that. I guess you’re right.”

“Really?” Zim perked up.

“Eh, no.”

The Irken slung his arms around the para-scientist from behind.

“You won’t even die for me a little?” Zim asked as he let himself be dragged along the sidewalk.

“If you can somehow manage to bring me back to life, I’ll let you kill me as much as you like. How does that sound?”

Zim climbed Dibs’ shoulders. Appreciating the new found height he gained.

“Do you mean it?” He asked hopefully.

There were so many experiments that opened up for him! Dissection would be so much easier if he could allow Dib to die for a couple of minutes. Zim was sure it wouldn’t be difficult to learn how to resuscitate a flat lined human. They only had like what? Three organs in total? He’d figure it out.

“Yeah. Sure. Why not.” He said as he took a hold of the aliens’ legs, steadying him.

“Aren’t you the one that tells me not to give him ideas?” The Membrane sister reminded her brother, pulling back one side of her headphones after hearing the words, “kill me”.

“I’m already a freak of nature. What’s the worst that Zim could do?”

The alien beamed. This was beginning to look like the start of a very promising day.

***

Being booted from his throne was less than ideal, but there was nothing that could be done about it now. The two wouldn’t share a class until the final period of the day. What was even the point of even _coming_ to this miserable place if he couldn’t bother Dib with his ideas for conquest? There was no point at all, that’s what!

“Hey! Zim! You made it.” Keef greeted from behind a bush.

Made it?

“What are you talking about. Keef?” The Irken question, as he was dragged to the place the strange boy had been standing from.

“I asked if you wanted to see something cool. You said, “Not now Keef! Show me later.” I said “How about tomorrow, before school starts?” And you said, “Yeah sure, whatever. Now leave me be!” So now here we are, at later.”

“You remembered all that?”

“Of course not, silly! I recorded our conversation. And I finally got you to say my name! I’m now one step closer to building my perfect best friend! All I need is some editing software and another roll of duct tape and he’ll be complete.”

“That’s all well and good, but what did you want to show me?”

Of course Zim wasn’t surprised. Dib used to spend hours recording him. That’s just how humans said hello. What he was interested in was that sudden strong smell lingering in the air. Zim had to grip his wig to keep it from flying off. His antennae were wild with curiosity at the sweet fragrance.

“I found this amazing bush filled with honeysuckles! Have you ever tried honeysuckle nectar? It’s the best!”

“Wait,” Zim began, intrigued, “humans can- uh I mean, _we_ as humans together can eat nectar? That’s a thing?”

“I know, it’s weird right? A lot of kids here in the city don’t know that so they ask me why I like to eat the flowers.” He laughed before plucking a flower from the bush, “But you can eat nectar from honeysuckles. It’s great! Come on, Zim. Give it a try!”

He watched Keef pluck a single stem from the bloom of the plant and lick his tongue across it. The action seemed easy enough. Earth was a dangerous planet to experiment on, but the Irken felt bold. Rather than pluck the flower whole, Zim pulled one close to him. The closer the blossom was to his antennae, the more they fluttered about trying to smell the honeysuckle. Something clicked in the back of his mind, and rather than follow Keef exactly, he let his instincts take over.

The Irken stuck out his tongue and linked it directly towards the plant, and sure enough it opened up he same way it did with the artificial nectar he was more used to. The plant had only the tiniest of scraps to offer, and despite not being a familiar flavor, it was the most unique and indescribable thing he had ever tasted.

“Wow. I wish my tongue could do that.” Keef remarked as he starred at him.

Zim released the flower and quickly recoiled his tongue. The Irken cleared his throat in an effort to regain his composure.

“That was normal.” He remarked.

“Okay.” The boy accepted, “So did you like it?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I didn’t like it.” Zim rebuked, “Now run along. You will be late for the history's class if you linger here.”

“Hey, you’re right. Aww! You’re always looking out for me, Zim.” He beamed, joyfully, “By the way, do I look okay?”

Other than the sudden red and swollen horrifying rash that had spread across his face, Keef looked the same as he always did to Zim.

“You look fine. Now leave!” He demanded, shoving the other away as quickly as he could.

“Oh good. My mom thought I might be allergic to them. Glad she was wrong. Honeysuckles are the best! Well I guess I’ll see you in chemistry then. Bye Zim!”

Zim waited until Keef was up the stairs and through the doors. That’s when the Irken pried off his backpack. He’d originally borrowed it from the Gaz-Human and he was glad she’d convinced him to keep it. The bag turned out to be quite useful, and was even purple! Once he was sure he was alone he unzipped it and dumped out his school supplies. Supplies he proceeded to replace with blossoms upon blossoms of honeysuckles.

***

“Hey sissy boy!”

Zim glared, and so it began. The alien was snatched up by the collar of his shirt, and slammed into the lockers. Was this supposed to intimidate him? Their technique needed work if that was the case. It was two this time. They never did give him a chance to pick them off one by one.

“Man, even when he’s actually wearing pants he’s a total weirdo.”

This usually lasted for about five minutes. Zim would be late for calculus, not that that was a bad thing. Just once, he wanted to get one of them alone so he could take them out. If he could dismantle the pack the hoard would disband out of sheer cowardice, finally leaving him alone. For now he’d begrudgingly let them go on with their benign Earth insults. It would be over with soon enough.

“Nice nails.” The one not hoisting him off the ground remarked, “Get your little sister to make em’ all nice and pretty for ya, huh freak?”

“Actually, that was me.”

Zim cocked his head to the side to get a better view behind the one who grabbed him. The alien smiled. He _thought_ that was Dib he heard.

“I love to paint fingernails.” He added as he admired his own, coated in black.

“You would, wouldn’t you?”

“I think it’s fun.” The para-scientist elaborated, as he fished through his coat pockets.

“Yeah? Well I think that makes you a just as weird as he is, creep.”

“That’s nice. Ah, so that’s where I put it.”

Dib pulled out what looked to be a scalpel from the inside of his coat. It seemed to have already gotten some use, and was dotted with something thick and red.

“What the hell? W-who’s blood is even on that thing?” The one holding Zim uttered as he dropped him.

“Fuck. That.” His friend declared, before bolting.

“Don’t just leave me alone with the serial killer!” The other cried out as he joined him.

Zim dusted himself off. Stupid humans. This was his favorite shirt and they very nearly ruined it. The scalpel was suddenly thrust towards the Irken, brushing mere millimeters from his throat. A grin spread on the humans’ face that glimmered wildly and had Zim rolling his eyes as he smiled. The “blade” was pulled back from his neck and offered to the alien a little more properly.

“You want one?” Dib asked casually, grabbing another from his pocket for himself.

Zim took the surgery tool in question, noting it’s sugary smell, and crumbly texture. The para-scientist sat along the raised bit of wall between the lockers using it as a makeshift seat and the Irken joined him. He watched Dib bite into his scalpel with ease.

“Wow, I can’t believe they haven’t expelled you yet.” Zim noted taking his own tentative taste.

The delicious flavor immediately sucked him in, and caution was thrown to the wind. The sweet sugar of royal icing, the satisfying crunch of crispy shortbread, and the red stuff? Jam. Rich, sweet, raspberry jam. Zims’ cookie was gone before he knew it. However, before the alien could regret eating it so hastily, the para-scientist handed him another. Zim didn’t want to thank Dib with words per say, so he hoped the human wouldn’t notice him leaning his head on his shoulder.

“Well, that’s what happens when your Dad keeps the lights on. His company funds the school every year.” Dib explained while twiddling his cookie between his fingers, “They can’t afford to kick me out. And they have definitely tried.”

“Huh. I suppose that would explain it.”

Zim took his time with his second cookie. He wanted to savor it. The familiarity of his tools combined with sweet sugary goodness. Who else but _his_ human could bring such comforts together with ease?

“So what do you think?” Dib asked eagerly.

“Eh?” Zim replied, his mouth currently occupied by a marriage of shortbread jam and icing.

“About the cookie? I made like forty of them! There was just so much shortbread dough left over from the previous batch of cookies our class made and it’s really good for carving out these specific little shapes. My teacher said she loved them. She even gave me extra credit!”

At every other word Dib said he leaned in just that little bit more, right up until Zim had nowhere to go but the wall. Now this was just completely unfair! The human was asking what he thought? Again? How often must the Irken praise Dibs’ unique culinary talents? It was embarrassing to have to admit to him time and time again how amazing he found his sweets to be.

More so because Zim wanted to tell him. He enjoyed these moments of praise and kindness. Both giving and receiving. It left the soldier feeling confused. Weren’t they still enemies? Enemies didn’t do this sort of thing, not that he was aware of.

“Dib.”

He should say something mean, he thought. Something bitter. Tell the para-scientist his cookies tasted burnt and lumpy. Wait, could something _be_ both burnt and lumpy? That didn’t make any sense. Zim glanced up at the human, still hovering over him as he unintentionally pressed the alien closer to the wall.

Dib looked so happy and oddly enough, Zim didn’t want to take that away from him. He felt himself relenting to the truth.

“They’re amazing.” He admitted, “As always.”

Dib seemed to relax at that. Resting his shoulders and letting them slump as he smiled.

“Thanks. That means a lot coming from you. I really needed to hear that.”

Zim didn’t know what was more terrifying; eating an actual scalpel, or wanting to be friends with his nemesis.

“Of course. What are- _rivals_ for.”

“Right, so see you at lunch?” The para-scientist asked, stepping back.

Zim nodded. The human gave him a tiny wave and the gesture was returned. The Irken looked up statistics from his phone on the survival rate of eating blades as he headed off to calculus, and noted they looked slim.

***

Dib wasn’t sure how he should say it. Should he even say it? Would Zim understand that humans weren’t supposed to be clones of one another? He watched the alien drink a honeysuckle while talking about space and concluded he probably wouldn’t, but he wanted to tell someone. He knew he should tell Gaz first, he knew. It was just… troubling and would be troubling no matter who he told first.

So when Zim asked after nearly twenty minutes of silence,

“Hey… Are you alright?”

Of course all Dib could think to say was,

“Just fine. See you tomorrow?”

Maybe if he would have said something sooner, he would have.

***

That was strange. Dib usually tried to interrupt him when he spoke on their walks. Apparently, twenty minutes was too long for the Irken to, “run his mouth”. Which made no sense, considering that mouths lacked the legs to do such a thing. He lingered at the door. They’d had an insightful conversation about black holes, and what watching one swallow a planet whole was like.

At least, Zim thought they did. Dib hadn’t said much of anything at all during their conversation. He wondered if he should go and ask the para-scientist why he seemed weirder than usual today, but decided against it. It wasn’t his place to pry in his enemy's affairs. The human would elaborate any issues should the need arise. Or he wouldn’t.

Again. It wasn’t his place to ask.

“_Incoming transmission._” His computer announced.

The alien startled. Incoming transmission? No one knew this line. No one except for… his Tallest. His Tallest were calling! His Tallest were calling _him_?!

His Tallest were _calling_ him! Wait… his Tallest were calling him. No, that wasn’t good. How was he supposed to explain why he hadn’t taken over the Earth yet? Zim couldn’t just tell his leaders that he had formed a peaceful truce! He’d be demoted indefinitely!

Without a thought, without a plan, knowing full well to ignore them would spell his end, Zim answered the call.

“-not really sure why the Gookins keep trying to escape from us. We remembered to feed them this year.” Purple cut in, unaware of the soldier on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, they’re just being melodramatic. You know how Gookins are.” Red elaborated.

“”Waa waa! Where’s my mommy?!”” The other mocked, “Like _Mommy_? What even is that? You made that up! That’s a made up word!”

Zim cleared his throat.

“Sirs, it appears you have made a call. It’s currently connected. Would you like to proceed with the transmission?” A transceiver on the other end noted.

The soldier waited to be acknowledged.

“What? We didn’t call anyone.” Purple declared, confused.

“Then should I-”

“Wait.” Red cut in, “Is that- No. That better not be who I think it is.”

Zim saluted to his leaders.

“I am here, my Tallest.” He announced.

“Oh come on! Seriously? And everything was going so good.” Purple complained slumping over in disappointment.

“You… called?” The soldier attempted to clarify.

“Well it wasn’t on purpose or anything!” Red argued, “Why can’t you just stay banished!”

They loved their jokes, Zim was well aware. Even if he didn’t find them all that funny.

“My Tallest,” The Irken saluted again, “with all due respect if this was just a mistake then I really must be going now. The Earth won’t conquer itself after all.”

The soldier put on his best smile, and hoped his leaders would lose interest.

“Of course it’s a mistake. It’s _been_ a mistake for the past five years with _you_!” Red elaborated, “And that’s just counting recently. You have _always_ been a mistake, Zim. From the moment you emerged from your pod you’ve been just a tiny, little, itty-bitty mistake. And we’ve paid for it. Big time!”

They were upset. As to be expected. They were busy and Zim was interrupting.

“Yes. You have told me this before. But I am growing taller!” The soldier noted, pleasantly, “Thank you for your concerns, but don’t worry. The mission goes well. It’s just. Going a little slow. But the Earth will belong to Irk. Eh, shortly. Very soon. I promise.”

The Tallest wouldn’t mind if by very soon he meant within the next one hundred years, right? Just long enough for his best friend and enemy to live a long unbothered life. Human lives were so short after all. So maybe the Tallest wouldn’t mind? Or notice for that matter.

“The mission.” Red repeated, “What’s he talking about again?”

“I bet he still thinks we want that mud ball.” Purple asked.

That question had Zim confused. Purple squinted back towards him. He took in his confusion and slowly, oddly and slowly, he began to laugh.

“B-by Irk! He actually thinks- Bwah Ha HA HA HA!”

Noticing Zim still out of the apparent joke, Red joined in and the both of them pointed at the soldier as they incoherently babbled. He wanted to question them. Wanted to demand what was so funny, but restrained himself. Zim was a good Irken. If he had done something foolish, his Tallest were entitled to mock him. He deserved it.

It took all of three minutes. Zim watched the hands of his clock tick by as they laughed and not just them. Various members of the Massive joined in making a mockery of him as he stood by and waited. There was a joke he just wasn’t getting, and he’d have to wait his turn to ask what it was. A raw burn clawed at his throat and he couldn’t believe himself for thinking it, but he actually wanted to cry. By the time they had settled down, Zim was far too aware of his labored, shaky, breathing and wanted very much for this call to just end.

“Wow, Zim. I knew you were stupid, but wow. Have you _really_ stayed on Earth for the past _five_ years thinking we were considering it for the empire?” Red questioned.

“But I-”

“I mean, _come on_!” Purple exclaimed, “It wasn’t even on the charts! Nobody thought Earth existed. We were all just hoping you’d get lost and die, or something. Out in the middle of nowhere. You weren’t actually supposed to _find_ anything!”

“That isn’t-”

“Wow! Look at him go!” Purple bellowed. “He still doesn’t get it! That’s amazing. How stupid could one person be, huh Red? I can’t believ-”

“But you pardoned me!” Zim interrupted.

The silent glares he received almost had him wanting to draw back, but he pressed on.

“You pardoned me from banishment.” He reminded them, “After I had escaped Foodcourtia.”

“Zim. Are you even listening to yourself? Escaped Foodcourtia?” Red asked skeptically, “No one _escapes_ Foodcourtia.”

“The moment you set foot off of that planet you were a fugitive! More than you _already_ were. We tried executing you,” Purple explained, “but your pak’s so malfunctioned the best that we could do without damaging the Control Brains was reassign you.”

“Honestly, if we were aware that all we had to do to get rid of you was have you believe you were an _actual_ invader we would have given you a fake assignment years ago!” Red clarified.

No. No, they were teasing him. Like they always did. He was the smallest. This was their way of toughening him up. Harsh words, for a strong Irken.

“This is all… so very funny, my Tallest. How foolish of me to believe… such an elaborate joke. Even for a moment. I will return to my duties, now.”

Zim made to switch off the transmission when suddenly there was a slam at the control board on the screen. He jumped back to find Purple looking enraged.

“No! That is it!”

“Pur?”

“I am sick of this! You! Yeah You!”

Purple pointed towards someone off screen.

“You know which buttons connect to Zims' line, so blow something up! If he’s not going to get it through that thick glitchy pak of his then I’m done.”

“Yes sir.” A technician replied.

“Wait!-”

“Oh! This should be fun!” Red remarked.

The ground rumbled as a blast shot out from the sub-basement. The tile displaced itself in the blast distorting along the floor. Another explosion rang out from overhead, followed by another in the kitchen. Fire began to spread from the closest explosion and swallowed his backpack with it. There was no way to save it. He could only watch the bag Gaz had given him burn.

“Get him! Get him!” Purple cried out, shaking Reds shoulders with one hand as he made a determined fist with the other.

“Master, everything's blowin’ up!” Gir cheered as he climbed out from behind the couch, “Yay! It’s just what I always wanted!”

Zim had wondered where the robot had snuck off to. The ringing in his antennae had him staggering as he approached the robot. Zim was about to tell Gir off for hiding when he heard something that made his spooch sink.

“Blow up the robot too! I wanna see that garbage can in pieces!”

Zim pounced on Gir tearing off the lid to his head and tossing it aside. There was a blinking light on his central core processing unit that was beginning to flash rapidly. He tore the box from Gir’s head effectively shutting the robot down. He threw the device out the door and high into the sky before it exploded into a thousand shards of shrapnel.

The soldier clutched onto his deactivated minion as he shut the door.

“Aww. You see that? This is why no one likes you. You ruin everything! I wanted to see the explosion.” Purple complained.

“Way to take the fun out of explosions, Zim.” Red agreed.

Zim took a special interest in the door, sinking to his knees. His spooch raced in his chest as he held onto Gir with one arm and the door handle with the other.

“Well that was almost fun.” Purple declared. “So yeah. You’re not an invader. Don’t leave Earth, not that you can now. And uh, if we ever see you in the reaches of _our_ space again we’ll kill you. You know how it is. Also, call us again we’ll blow you up. So, don’t.”

“Seriously. Don’t call us. Ever.” Red agreed.

“Horrible knowing you!” Purple closed off.

The call ended. Zim held onto Gir. He rattled lifelessly in the Irkens’ arms.

“You. Called me...” He weakly added, for no one.

A light above overheated and shattered, and without it’s flickering buzz Zim was left with nothing at all. No noise, no companionship. There was no one, and the silence was maddening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad times ;^: Sorry for the massive length of this chapter. The next one will be just as long. This is the beefiest segment of our story folks, so try to bare with me. Love you guys! <3


	16. Of Covenants and Wombs (part 2)

High School- 8th grade

Zim wasn’t waiting for him the next day. It’d happened before, so Dib couldn’t say he was particularly bothered. He spent the better half of the day locked away in the computer lab, looking up articles of Dolly the cloned sheep. He’d touch his face every so often as he scrolled through page after page and he wondered if he was rapidly aging too. At least, that’s what he last remembered himself doing before he woke up in the nurse’s office. Three straight days without sleep in a row was a new record for the para-scientist.

With his sleep deprived hallucinations finally leaving him alone for the time being, Dib continued to dwell on his questions. Thoughts of dying before the age of twenty left him feeling restless, and that got him into some fights he would have otherwise avoided. Three days went by with a swollen black eye and not a trace of an Irken he’d have to settle down about it. After a week, Dib found himself walking past his home after school. It would only take a few short blocks until he was standing at Zims’ door. He didn’t even have to knock.

“AAH!!”

If Dib hadn’t have been so out of it, he may have given Gir a response. Any response.

“Oh.” The robot noted, “It’s just you Mary.”

“Where’s Zim?” Dib asked, his voice hoarse from a lack of use and hoping he didn’t look as rough as he sounded.

Looking inside of the house left the human with more questions than answers. It was a mess. Black scorch marks marred the floor, and the tiles were cracked by lower impact. It smelled of smoke and the jolt of severed wires sparked and popped about the living room. What _happened_ here?

“He went away.”

Dibs’ eyes widened and he felt his exhausted heart racing.

“You don’t mean-”

“My master will be back real soon. He said he’s super, super, super- and this is veeerryyy important Gir don’t forget to tell him this,” Gir recited verbatim, “-super busy right now. So you have to tell him to leave.”

“Oh.” He accepted, trying his best not to seem disappointed, “That’s fine.”

Dib looked toward the nearest camera under the door and offered it the best smile he could.

“I’ll uh, see you later then… sorry.” He said, apologizing quietly.

Dib walked away, stopping at the end of the sidewalk. He gave their small wave towards the camera before he left. Dib doubted the Irken would see him. It was honestly more for himself.

***

They were making souffles in home ec. today. Not too terribly difficult if you were patient, but they left little room for creativity. Dib found himself zoning out of the lesson. Mrs. Ginger made cooking interesting and fun for the para-scientist, making it all the more noticeable that she wasn’t here today. Rather than just telling them the basic instructions like their substitute was doing, she would get into the details of why cooking worked the way it did. She broke down the science of it and suddenly, the intricate processes of cooking just sort of clicked for him.

Dib originally cooked because he had too. If it wasn’t frozen with instructions, Gaz didn’t know how. So it was up to the older brother to make sure they ate more than just frozen pizzas every night. Their father, and Dib wasn’t sure if that word was still right, had originally installed a scheduled algorithm for their dinners. Though thankfully he hadn’t yet noticed Dib disabling it. He refused to have either himself or his sister be stuck eating a plain can of beans ever again.

He’d messed around in the kitchen before home ec. of course. Making pies and simple treats. Home ec. was different however. He never imagined he’d be so engrossed in something he originally thought was boring and simple. Then Mrs. Ginger explained methylcellulose gel, and how through the specific breakdown of that thermoreversible property something as absurd as hot ice cream was made; and she became his favorite teacher. Not only was she smart, she was also really nice, and never talked down to him about the things he loved.

Which was why it was a shame she wasn’t here today. His dish was passable, his appetite was absent, and soon enough the bell for next period rang. Great. If there was anything he was looking forward to least of all, it was chemistry with Mr. Berkel. The guy didn’t know a flask from a centrifuge. Dib took his seat and hoped the class would be over before he noticed it. Mr. Berkel was nowhere to be seen, but he was usually late anyway.

Through the door, hoisting a large set of tubes wasn’t the heavy and balding Mr. Berkel he had expected however.

“Sorry I’m late class. I just needed a few more tubes for these up and coming experiments.”

In a mass of frigid red and silver curls, with the warmest of smiles was his home ec. teacher, Mrs. Ginger.

“Now” She started, her hands playfully resting on her hips, “who wants to see what I like to call a Lucky Charms fire?”

The class was in an immediate up roar, and suddenly Dib’s day was made that little bit better. The experiment was fun. Simple sure, but unlike most of Mr. Berkel’s lessons it was actually engaging. Not just a way to distract the class while he watched football in the corner. Dib took notes. Learning which chemicals burned what colors, what those colors signified in their compounds and in general, was happy for the distraction.

After class, the para-scientist lingered. Here he was with his favorite teacher in one of his favorite subjects. Why couldn’t it be like this all the time? She was perfect for this class. Eventually the previous class was gone, off enjoying lunch, and that just left Dib. He’d join them in a moment, but first he was curious.

So instead of leaving just yet, he walked up to her desk.

“Oh there you are, Dib! I was _wondering_ if I’d read the roll call sheet right. I haven’t been able to talk to you all class. You’re so shy I thought you might have shrunk away. It’s nice to see you outside of home ec.. Did you have questions regarding the chemical compounds you’ll need?”

She spoke so familiarly with him. It caught him off guard. Dib didn’t think anyone noticed him. If they weren’t taking the time to call him a creep.

“Huh?”

“You said your father is Professor Membrane right? Knowing him you most likely have the necessary chemicals and a lab to produce a rainbow fire of your own at home.” She suggested, “That is, if you were interested in performing the experiment for yourself. And _I_ _know_ as your teacher, I shouldn’t go encouraging you to conduct such a dangerous experiment on your own. However, as a student who brought his own hi-grade professional safety equipment to school, let alone the son of such a respected scientist, I’m sure you’re quite the exception.”

“You’re way better at this than Mr. Berkel.” Dib noted admirably, “Why aren’t _you_ the full time science teacher?”

Mrs. Ginger sighed as she began stacking up her papers.

“I suppose it seems like an obvious choice, doesn’t it? You haven’t been the first one to make that suggestion.”

Dib shrank back. He didn’t mean to upset her.

“Sorry,” He muttered quietly.

She looked up at him from the papers and after noticing his disheartened stance she quickly reached her hand out to reassuringly pat his arm.

“Oh no, Dib it’s alright.” She said, calmly, “I haven’t taken any offense.”

His teacher sat back in her chair and offered a smile.

“What I meant was, I know that my understanding of science makes me _seem_ like an obvious fit for this class. I do still have that lovely degree, but,” She continued, “it just isn’t what I wanted to do.”

“What you… wanted to do?” He questioned.

“As you might have already guessed, science is a fairly easy subject for me. Maybe even a little too easy. People used say I was made to be a scientist.”

A hollow cord struck in Dibs’ chest and he looked down towards the floor. Made. The word rang in his head, and left him feeling sick.

“But they were wrong.”

His ears perked up even as his eyes remained downcast.

“They were?” He asked.

She seemed to take a good look at him for a moment, and the para-scientist flinched under her gaze. He must have looked stupid to her. Staring at the floor like a kicked puppy. Dib felt pathetic, and wanted nothing more than to blink out of existence, right then and there.

“Dib,” Mrs. Ginger began, carefully, “do you know what the technical term for a food scientist is.”

He shook his head.

“They’re called gastronomists.” She explained, “So maybe, in a way, they weren’t wrong. I _am_ still a scientist. Just not the scientist everyone expected me to be.”

Dib felt her fingers tap under his chin as they lifted up his head up to meet her eyes.

“But I’m the kind of scientist _I_ want to be, and that’s good enough for me because I’m happy.”

He looked at his teacher and sure enough, her smile was genuine and filled with peace. Mrs. Gingers’ calmness washed over him and suddenly, he didn’t feel quite as guilty as he had before. After all, if she was happy and doing what she loved doing, then maybe it wasn’t so impossible to think he could have that too someday.

“You be the para-scientist you want to be, Dib. And hey, maybe in between your ghost hunts and Mothman searches, you can bake some goodies along the way. You made quite the handsome batch of donuts just last week. And the spider web frosting was such a delightful touch! You’re so creative.”

The para-scientist began to smile. He wasn’t used to people complimenting him.

“I uh, don’t know what to say.” Dib remarked awkwardly.

“Don’t even mention it. Oh, look at the time!” She said, noticing the clock on the wall, “You better scamper on over to lunch. Goodness knows, I have a panini that’s been calling my name and I’ve been excited about it all day!”

She scooped up her things preparing to leave. Dib began to walk away before she added,

“Also, try to be nice to Mrs. Dale. I won’t be back for the next two days so _please_ no spider themed anything until I get back or I’ll never hear the end of it. Try and behave.”

“Don’t worry. I won’t make any spiders.” He promised.

Dib made to leave but stopped himself at the door.

He hesitated, before adding, “And uh, thanks. I mean for- well… everything. Thank you.”

Dib wished he could do more, say more. He didn’t deserve this, and he couldn’t even tell her why. She’d think he was crazy, like everyone else already did. So it was better to leave her in the dark. It was easier for him to go on pretending to be normal.

***

Dib hadn’t made it two steps into the house before a bag of lima beans was shoved his way. His freshly bruised shoulder was grateful for the relief.

“Thanks,” He said to his sister, who was trying her best to fix her brothers frumpy, haggard, appearance.

“At least it looks better now.” She remarked, roughly straightening out his shirt, “Maybe you’ll think twice before picking fights with guys twice your size.”

“Doubt it. Hey, what do you think I’d have to say to get him to try and break my arm? Should I bring up his parents divorce? Or the fact that he was held back twice? Which one do you think would piss him off more?”

He was socked in the gut, with a sharp punch. It nearly knocked the wind out of him.

“Are you fucking serious?! What’s the matter with you Dib?”

He picked himself up before he completely staggered to the floor, and couldn’t help but snicker. That hurt. A lot. He was fairly sure it was going to bruise later, but he couldn’t care less. What did it matter? It didn’t matter to their "father", what discovering this was putting him through, so why should _he_ care?

Gaz drew away from him. Dib looked up at his sister from his slouched position at the door, and could finally see her face. She scowled at him, as her makeup ran down her cheeks.

“Gaz,”

“I’m not stupid. I know that something happened. _Three weeks_ you’ve been acting like this. And the fact that you’re not telling me-!… I don’t _know_ what to do when I don’t even _know_ what the fuck your problem is. And I’m not about to get into this right now.”

“_i-didn’t-want-to-hurt-you-i-didn’t-want-to-hurt-you-i-didn’t-want-to-hurt-you-i-didn’t-want-to-hurt-you-i-didn’t-want-to-hurt-you-i-didn’t-want-to-hurt-you-i-didn’t-want-to-hurt-you-i-didn’t-want-to-hu-_” His mind raced as he panicked.

He was angry, but not with Gaz. Never her. Why couldn’t he just say it? He couldn’t tell Zim, and now he’s gone. Now he can’t tell Gaz! What would he do if she left him too?

“Wait, Gaz no- This is just so hard and… I’m sorry. It’s because I’m a… a…”

She waited for him to finish. She waited, but he never did. He couldn’t. He just looked away, in shame. He’d already essentially lost a father. Dib couldn’t handle the thought of losing his sister too.

“Dad’s home.” Gaz said, sharply wiping her face, “We’re having meatloaf.”

His sister walked away. Dib had nowhere to go but to awkwardly follow after her to the kitchen.

“Ah, there you are son.” The professor called out from the table, “I was beginning to worry you wouldn’t make it.”

“I live here.” Dib remarked coldly, taking a seat.

Gaz glared at him from her plate, reminding him to be civil. Their Dad so rarely had the time to eat at home with them, and Dib would rather just eat something quick in his room. It was his sister who struggled to maintain their family time together.

So, out of respect for her he added, “Which is why I tried not to stay out too late. I know this time is… important.”

“Yes. Family bonding is an important exercise in trust. And I _trust _this dinner is adequate, yes?”

Exercise. Dib mulled over the word with cautious self-reflection. A chill racked his spine as he wondered how often the professor related their family to experimentation. How blatant had he been over the years? How had Dib not seen through it sooner?

“Well it’s meatloaf. I don’t think it’s _supposed_ to be good.” Gaz remarked, poking at the loaf with her fork.

“Nonsense honey. You cooked a fine loaf of cow. It’s quite edible.” The professor encouraged, despite not yet eating it.

“It’s alright. I’d rather have pizza though.” She admitted, slowly accepting her meatloafy fate as she took a bite of her dinner.

She forgot to add the ketchup, Dib noted. A chef, his sister was not. He normally did most of the cooking around the house. He would have tonight too, if it weren’t for their Dad showing up unexpectedly. Though Dib couldn’t rule himself out. After all, _he_ was the idiot going around picking fights with people four grades higher than him.

Instead of being home with his… family….

“Progress on the latest invention in our labs is coming along just smoothly. Of course, I wish I could tell the two of you what that invention _is_ but company policy forbids it.”

“Wait?” Dib inquired, “Aren’t you the owner-”

“So in place of those undisclosable discussions, let’s move the subject to your school work.”

Dib sighed. Of course he’d change the subject. Better to put a judgmental spotlight on children who were still learning, as opposed to an adult who should know better. It was easier to pick on kids.

“I finished my project for art class.” Gaz said, struggling to eat the dry loaf, “It was okay.”

“That’s great honey.” Their father said, slicing his loaf into even slices.

“You mean that galaxy painting. The one where you blotted out the center with an apple core?” Dib clarified with interest, “SINsignificant. That’s what you called it, right?”

“Yeah. But it’s dumb.” Gaz criticized, poking at her green beans. “Just sounds pretentious.”

“No it’s not.” He argued, “I thought it was awesome when you told me what you were making. I like the way you interpret things. It’s so unique. I can’t wait to see it.”

She glanced up from her plate and smiled at him. It was a relief to see, and had him smiling too.

“And what about you Dib?” The professor cut in, “What have you done today?”

Not much honestly, but he’d have to say something.

“I got a b on my history report.” He informed.

“Well, thankfully understanding the past isn’t integral to improving the future where it stands in the present. What else?”

“I uh- there was a pop quiz in geography. I passed that with an a.”

“How about chemistry? How is that coming along?” The professor inquired instead.

Dib stabbed at his mashed potatoes.

“I’m passing.” He remarked sourly.

“With an a, I hope.”

“Yes _Dad_. With an a.”

“Wonderful.”

“I also got an a in home ec..” Dib added.

“Well that’s-”

“I’m learning to cross stitch by hand. Teacher says I’m a natural.” He threw in.

“That’s uh...-”

“And I love it too. I think it’s my favorite class.”

Dib began to cut into his dinner, rocking his knife into the meat.

“As long as you keep your grades up in chemistry I don’t see a reason why not-”

“My teacher says she’s a gastronomist.” Dib informed, “Interesting, right?”

One slice, two slice, three slice, four.

“There are many branches of science to study, yes.” The professor admitted.

“Maybe _I’ll_ be a gastronomist.”

His meat loaf was beginning to look rather unloafed as he carelessly carved at it.

“Uh-”

“I think it would go along great with my paranormal studies. Which I’m _still_ invested in, by the way.”

Dib finally stopped, leaving his poor, mutilated, dinner be. He waited for what his father would say next. The professor seemed to gather his thoughts. He placed his elbows on the table, as his fingers oh so calculatingly pressed onto one another. His figure seemed to morph then, from a warm and inviting parent to a cold and calculating business man.

“I suppose your divide in interests is normal. No one field of science could satiate someone with so much potential. Why,” He said with a chuckle, “you _were_ practically _made_ for science.”

The statement cut deep. Such an innocent remark and yet, it sent his blood boiling. That harmless laughter wouldn’t stop, and Dib had had enough.

“SHUT UP!”

The room fell silent. Dib could feel himself shaking as he did his best not to jump the table.

_ “You_ don’t get to joke about that. Not about _me_! So just shut up!”

He was met with expressions of respective confusion and annoyance from either family member.

“Dib, what is the _meaning_ of such an unprovoked outburst?”

The para-scientist felt himself twitch at the question.

“Unprovoked? _Unprovoked_?!” He shouted, smashing his fist on the table, “When were you going to tell me I was a clone? Was I just supposed to figure that out? Did you _mean_ for me to figure it out? Was it supposed to be a _secret_?”

“Now Dib-”

“Wait. What the hell?” Gaz questioned, before looking toward Dib, “You’re joking, right?”

“Watch the language, Gazlene-”

“I wanted to tell you Gaz.” Dib interrupted, his voice strained as he choked on the words, “I did. It’s just- _really_ messed up. _I’ve_ been messed up.”

Gaz watched as Dib struggled not to completely break down. Her eyes widened and suddenly, everything made sense. This was actually happening, and it had been slowly driving her brother insane for the past three weeks.

“There is no need to overreact, son. This isn’t as dire as you are making it out to be.” The professor calmly dismissed, “_Now_, we were having a civil meal with one another. Could we possibly get back to that?”

Dib felt his heart sink. It didn’t matter? None of this mattered? _He_ didn’t matter? He looked down at his plate, staring at his cold food. Did eating matter?

He was dragged out of his thoughts by the sound of shattering ceramic. Dib jerked his head up to see Gaz standing from her seat. Her hands lingered where they had dropped her plate.

“Gazlene!”

“I told you I didn’t want meatloaf.” She remarked bitterly towards their father, “Come on Dib.”

He was at a loss for words, and wasn’t sure what to do. Making him all the more grateful that Gaz was there to pick up his pieces. She took his arm and the two raced out of the house. She led him to the park. As she let go of his hand she wandered over to the swing set. Dib followed.

The two sat down, the silence of the night interrupted by the protest of rusty chains. He wasn’t sure where to go from here. Gaz knew, but should he still tell her anyway? Like, formally? Was it necessary? He supposed not.

“I still want to call him Dad.” He began, “That’s weird, right?”

Gaz started swinging. Dib was worried she might ignore him, but she didn’t.

“I don’t know.” She answered after some time, once she got a good rhythm going with her swing, “Does this mean I’m a clone too?”

The para-scientist shook his head.

“Genetic impossibility. Clones are exact matches, right down to the chromosomes.” He remarked, “Although knowing him, you might have been incubated in a tube. Still… that’s pretty normal compared to- well you know.”

He gestured to himself.

“I can’t believe Danny Phantom lied to me.” She said casually, as she swung beside him.

A dry chuckle escaped him. It sounded warm, despite it’s exhaustion.

“Guess you can’t believe cartoons, huh?” He said, swinging beside her.

Gaz was quiet for a while after that. Dib wasn’t sure what to add. He was happy enough with just this. Happy not to be alone. He’d take whatever she gave him. They swung like that, in silence, for some time.

Dib listened to the sound of creaking metal and let it drown away his worries, his fears, and his regrets. He’d forget everything else for now. Dib didn’t need anything else. This was enough.

“You’re still my brother.” Gaz said suddenly, out of nowhere, “I don’t care what science says. So don’t try to tell me we’re not family, alright.”

Dib’s feet began to drag along in the dirt as he stopped swinging, slowly coming to a complete stop. He felt something in him break. A reassurance he’d been too afraid to ask for, was simply given to him. Choked sounds stuttered out of his throat and suddenly he couldn’t see. He tried to stop it but he couldn’t. An ugly sound came out of him and before he knew it, Dib was sobbing.

He couldn’t breathe and he was overwhelmed. Dib had never cried like this, and it was beginning to give him a headache. He felt Gaz’s arms swallowing him up, as he burred his face in his hands. She was hugging him. Gaz was actually hugging him, a sappy sentiment he knew she hated to do. How long had it been since she last hugged him?

He’d missed this.

“Damn it, Dib.”

He felt her tears soak through his shirt.

“Damn it.” She repeated, pulling him closer.

After regaining his composure, he hugged her back. It was sort of uncomfortable trying to hug each other past the chains, but he didn’t mind. He needed this, and his sister did too.

***

Dib was grateful Gaz had managed a friend. Albeit, a "friend" who was actually just a poor girl she’d scared into letting his sister into her house. Though, that was likely as close as the two of them would ever get to forming friendships. They’d crashed at the pseudo friends house for the past two days now, waiting for their father to leave. Dib was keeping tabs, and had noted over the days that he was still there. Surprisingly, he hadn’t called the police to come and collect them, which only raised Dib’s suspicions of the man further.

Dib was finally beginning to settle down now that he had told someone the truth, and as he accepted his strange existence his thoughts began to drift away from himself. Focusing on Zim instead. It was hard to ignore over three weeks of radio silence, and he couldn’t help but be a little hurt. Zim was the closest thing to a friend Dib had ever known apart from Gaz. He was happy he had her, but it bothered him to no end that he hadn’t heard a thing from the Irken. Nothing. Not a single word throughout all of this.

“Hey,”

Gaz found him sitting in the bathtub. The smooth cool of porcelain was something Dib found soothing. It steadied his nerves.

“You’re still awake?” He asked.

She closed the lid of the toilet and took a seat.

“Can’t sleep. Too nervous.” She answered.

“Don’t go developing my habits.” Dib warned, “It’s not pretty.”

“Like I’m gonna develop insomnia from staying up too late. That’s not how sleep disorders work, Dib.” Gaz reminded him.

“I know that but still,” Her brother cautioned, “it’s not healthy for you to be staying up so late all the time. And yeah, I know, I _know_; _I’m_ a bad example.”

“No you’re not. You already know why I’m awake and it’s not you.”

“I know.” Her brother accepted.

“Stop saying “I know”.” She ordered, pelting him with toilet paper.

He laughed and ducked for cover.

“I surrender! I surrender!” Dib declared.

“I can accept that you’re a clone, Dib. But you better not be French.” Gaz warned.

“Ne soyez pas raciste, Gaz.” He remarked with a smirk.

“Ugh!” She cried out in disgust, launching more rolls at him, “No one cares that you learned french asshole!”

“Then stop giving me opportunities to show it off.”

She hurled rolls of toilet paper at him until there were none left, leaving Dib completely t.p.ed in the tub. He pushed them aside as he sat up.

“What are you sitting in the tub for anyway?” Gaz asked, resting her elbows against the back of the toilet.

“Your friend thinks I watch her sleep,” He answered awkwardly, “and I don’t want to be accused of crimes.”

Dib was a creep. He’d already accepted that, but he was definitely not _that_ kind of creep.

“She _has_ a name.” Gaz pointed out.

“And that would be...?”

“Like I fucking know.” She scoffed.

“How are you going to criticize _me_ about not knowing her name when _you_ don’t even know it?” Dib scolded.

“Let’s cut the bullshit, this is about Zim isn’t it?” She asked, getting straight to it.

Dib’s eyes went wide.

“Holy shit.” She declared, surprised herself, before cracking a wide grin, “That was just a guess. You’re _actually_ thinking about Zim?”

He covered his face with his coat, hoping it wasn’t as warm as it felt.

“I am not.” He defended weakly.

“Well, I’m thinking about him.” His sister admitted.

He pulled back his coat.

“You are?” He asked.

“Well yeah. He’s my only friend. You know. That _isn’t_ blood.” She pointed between the two of them as she said it, “So maybe I kinda miss him?”

Dib looked out the window and sighed.

“I don’t know what’s happened.” He looked back towards his sister, his expression hardening, “There’s a chance this is the end of the truce.”

“That doesn’t change things between him and me,” Gaz told him, just as serious, “He’s my friend. Whether he, or you, or anyone else for that matter, likes it or not.”

Dib nodded. He knew what he had to do. The para-scientist stood to his feet and hopped out of the tub. He left the bathroom, left the house, and marched straight to Zim’s base.

***

He took tentative steps as he cut into Zim’s yard. The grass had overgrown. Mail was jammed into the slot, left unattended. Even the red glow of the cameras was unaccounted for, indicating that his security was offline. It looked abandoned however, Dib wouldn’t leave until he knew for sure. He had to go in.

He didn’t bother knocking. Dib jostled the handle. Locked. He fished in his coat for his laser pen. The light on this thing wasn’t for show. Dib made sure it was the real thing. The para-scientist carefully cut a hole around the knob and once the handle fell free, he kicked open the door.

Dib didn’t have to do that, if he were being honest, but he’d always wanted to. Stepping into the house he was greeted with silence. It felt eerie in a way that felt worse than it had when he was younger. He knew Zim now, and this was not how his house should feel. Dib felt a tiny tug at his pants. He pointed his laser down, only to be met by Gir, weakly trying to push him back.

He stopped, and couldn’t help himself from hurting over the robots poor protest. Dib knew Gir was stronger than this.

“You can’t. I promised. Please go. I promised.” He said, still trying his best to convince him.

It hurt. It genuinely hurt, but he shook his head.

“No Gir. I have to see him.”

The robot continued to barely push at his legs. It seemed like he knew it too. That this had to happen. Once he’d made it to the slide, Dib was left with no choice but to pick Gir up and gently move him to the side. The robot listened. Dib slipped through the trash can and down the shoot.

Once he’d made it down, he rolled forward from the force. Zim was waiting for him, a gun in his hands. There was a steadily increasing beeping noise, and Dib was left with mere seconds to react. He managed to dodge to the left before he could be plastered against the wall.

“Why are you here, Dib?!” He heard the Irken call out from behind his cover.

Dibs’ heart was racing as he heard Zim reload.

“What’s _wrong_ with you? I come looking for you and you _shoot_ me?!”

“Article one, clause eighteen d, “Neither shall tread the others base without invitation to do so.”.” He quoted.

“I _tried_ getting a hold of you _two weeks_ ago!” Dib shouted, readying his pen, “Where have you been?!”

The beeping charged up again.

“Here.”

A ballistic round of fire surrounded his flimsy cover. Shreds of metal and splintered wood flew all around him as he covered his head. Once the gun ceased, Dib came to an understanding that it required a cool down period. He ran for the next available cover, taking a glance behind it once he stationed himself safely. Zim was already aiming at him, but he knew he had time. He wanted to look the Irken in the eyes for his next question.

“Why are you doing this? We can talk, Zim. You don’t have to do this.”

“Shut up!” He barked, punching his gun as if willing it to load faster. “We _do_ have to do this!”

“Why?”

Dib could see that his gun had reloaded. He took cover.

“Why? WHY!?” The alien shouted.

A barrage of fire chipped away the humans’ hiding spot and he was alarmed to find it a worse cover than the last.

“You broke treaty!” Zim declared, “Those were our conditions! This is the consequence!”

The moment the fire ceased again, Dib was left with nowhere to go. He ran for Zim. He aimed his pen and fired it at the hand holding the gun effectively knocking it out of the Irkens’ hands. For good measure, he kicked it away. Zim suckered him across the jaw, knocking Dib hard back into the ground. He picked himself up, and jumped at the Irken, causing the both of them to slide along the floor until they fell off the bridge landing down into the sub-basement.

The resounding fall was harsh, and left Dib staggering to stand back on his feet. Zim struggled as well, before his pak legs took over and carried him away. Hiding him in the shadows. Dib wasted no time. This was Zims’ domain, and he wasn’t about to be caught dead without a proper weapon, especially now when the alien wanted his head. He armed himself with the nearest gun he could find and waited.

“Are you seriously trying to tell me that after three years you want to break the treaty over this? Zim, I know you can be an asshole but I didn’t think you were _this_ much of an asshole.” He couldn’t help but chuckle as he said it, danger be damned.

He almost didn’t expect a response. Dib looked around every angle, prepared to defend himself.

“Stop it. You knew the rules. You broke them.” The Irken elaborated, “This is what’s _supposed_ to happen. We agreed to this.”

“Zim,” Dib began, walking blindly in the dark and aiming his gun as he looked around, “That’s stupid. _This_ is stupid.”

“No it’s not!” He defended.

Dib pinpointed the shout, and noted the echo reverberating to his right. He followed it.

“So you’re just going to kill me? Even though you don’t want to?”

“If that keeps everything in order. If it keeps everything from not making sense anymore. Then yes.” He affirmed.

Dib could see him. Zim hadn’t spotted him yet. The para-scientist took advantage of that by taking cover where the alien wouldn’t see him. Zim was close, which meant that he was following the sound of his voice too. Dib pulled out a set of walkie talkies, and eyed them sadly. They were shaped like the aliens from Toy Story.

It was Zims’ favorite movie. Dib was hoping to surprise him with them. He pushed those thoughts aside and tossed one of them away. It landed with a sharp thud, that immediately drew the aliens’ attention. He skittered toward it, effectively turning his back to Dib. The para-scientist adjusted the volume of his walkie talkie and pressed the button.

“Why wouldn’t things make sense?” He questioned quietly, hoping to keep Zim from hearing the other end of his voice, “What happened?”

He could hear a frustrated growl in the distance.

“That is no concern of yours, _human_!” He spat, “Where are you!? Stop hiding so I can shoot you, damn it!”

Dib had to cover his mouth. He almost gave away his position. He couldn’t help but laugh and even once he pressed the button he was still snickering.

“Since when do _you_ curse?” He asked, incredulously.

“S-shut up! I can damn curse if I shit want to! Uh- Piss!” Zim retorted.

“How are you _so_ bad at this?” Dib teased.

He was so tired. He missed his bed, and all he wanted to do was get this over with and go home. Dib wanted to wake up the next day, race down the stairs and open the door. He wanted to find Zim on the other side. Dib wanted _them_ back. The way they were before any of this had to happen.

“I’ve missed you.” The human said fondly.

“Well _I_ haven’t!” The Irken declared.

Dib could hear various equipment shattering and smashing about as Zim searched for him.

“I know you don’t mean that.” Dib retorted.

Zim was stubborn. Especially when he was upset. Dib already knew that.

“What do you know?” He protested, “You know nothing!”

“Zim, I’m your friend. Of course I know you.” The human shot back.

“We are _not_ friends!”

Those words rang in his head. He should have expected Zim to say that. He shouldn’t have been surprised by it. It wasn’t shocking to hear, and yet somehow it was. Against his better judgment the para-scientist sat up. He walked straight out cover and made no attempt to walk quietly.

Zim followed the noise, and Dib saw two glowing red eyes meet his own from the dark. He watched as they glowered at him. The human approached the alien, as his throat clawed raw with fire.

“Say that to my face!” He declared, throwing his walkie talkie to the ground.

It smashed against the floor and a corner of the plastic chipped off.

“If you’re going to tell me we aren’t friends than you can say it- _to my face_!”

As Dib drew in closer, he couldn’t help the tears that stung and prickled as they fell down his face. Zim aimed his sights on the para-scientist and he aimed back.

“We’re-” Zim tried, steadying his weapon.

The closer the Irken got to him, the more Dib could see that his arms were shaking.

“W-we-” He stepped out of the shadows.

Dib stood still. Zim only got closer.

“We… we’re...”

Zim was close enough for point blank fire. Dib lowered his weapon. The Irken clutched onto his harder to steady himself. He pressed the muzzle directly to Dib’s chest.

“We’re not...”

Dib tossed his gun away. Zim glared at him.

“Stop doing that!” He gritted from his teeth, “You realize you’re stripping away any hope for defense you have! Why?!”

“I have no reason to defend myself.” Dib remarked.

The alien growled at him, his own eyes growing wet as he pressed the barrel harshly into the para-scientist.

“You think I won’t do it? You think I’m weak?!” He challenged.

Dib took a hold of the gun. He didn’t move to push it away, nor to take it. Instead, he helped Zim steady it to his chest. The Irken seemed conflicted, and Dib could see through his confusion. There was fear in his eyes.

“Zim,” Dib began, “my life is shit.”

The alien seemed confused by this statement, so the human elaborated.

“Three weeks ago, I found out I was a clone. My Dad is me. I’m not Professor Membranes’ son. I’m-… just an elaborate last ditch effort attempt at immortality, that failed.”

Zim listened to him, and as he did he began to lower himself down to the ground.

“And I know… that Irkens aren’t born like humans are. So maybe it isn’t such a big deal to _you_. But for _humans_. This. This isn’t natural. I’ve been called a freak my whole life. I always told the people who called me that that they were wrong. But… they weren’t. I _am_ a freak. I shouldn’t even exist.”

Zim was touched down to the ground, pak legs completely retracted. Dib kept the gun in his hands trained on his chest.

“So if you’re going to fire,” He said clutching the weapon close, “I want you to know that it’s okay. You’ll be doing the Earth a favor.”

Dib took his hands from the gun, giving the Irken the reigns. He held it firmly, his eyes locked to the humans chest. Slowly he looked up at Dib, and sighed. Zim grabbed the humans’ hands and forced him to hold the gun. He aimed it at himself. Alarmed, Dib tried to remove his hands, but the Irken forced his aim to remain.

“If this is what you want, then fine.” He relented, casting his eyes back to the floor.

Dib had no idea what that was supposed to mean, but he figured it was best to just let this play out.

“Dib,” Zim began, a little hesitant, “my life is shit.”

It was then that Dib realized that he was parroting him from earlier. He waited for Zim to continue.

“I… have discovered what I dreaded most. I am not a soldier.”

The para-scientist was surprised, but remained silent.

“I am not a citizen of my planet. I have been exiled. I was never sent to conquer the Earth. My Tallest didn’t even know it existed.” Zim elaborated.

The Irken looked back up at Dib, and the human could see the pain that lingered there.

“They sent me here to die. They wanted me to die. I was told as much. Directly from The Tallest themselves. I am hated. By all of Irk.”

Zim thrust the gun into his chest and Dib had to be careful not to let his finger slip and open fire.

“So if anyone should have to die… It should be someone who’s death would benefit Irk.”

The alien closed his eyes, actually prepared for Dib to shoot him. The para-scientist noticed something. The more he dwelled on it the funnier it got and he began to laugh. Zim looked up at him, confused. It started slow even a little restrained, but soon enough the human was barreled over into a fit of hysterics. Dib’s grip slipped away leaving the Irken to hold the gun on his own.

Zim glared at Dib, beginning to feel frustrated and the para-scientist couldn’t help but feel bad for the alien. He was missing the joke.

“What is so funny?” He demanded. “Why must you constantly confuse me, Dib? Haven’t I said something that was supposed to be sad?”

Dib let himself calm down. He looked at the Irken and offered him a kind smile.

“You’re right. You did just tell me something sad.” He agreed, “But that’s not why I’m laughing.”

“Well?” Zim prodded, ever patient.

Dib knelt down to his level and looked him square in the eyes.

“I’m laughing because I finally see it. All this time I thought Irk was brainwashing _you_. I never even considered that _I_ was being brainwashed too. I mean- look at us!” The human exclaimed, gesturing between the two of them, “We were actually prepared to _die_. For people who never gave so much as a _damn_ about us! H-h-here we are- pouring our hearts- our _spooches_ out. Just _b__leeding_ patriotism. And for what? A bunch of bastards who never even wanted us?”

Zim stepped back, though thankfully he’d finally lowered the gun.

“Zim,” He asked, resting his hands on the Irkens’ shoulders. “do you know what this means?”

The Irken shook his head, but looked curious.

“You and I- we _don’t_ actually have to do this. _We_ are the ones right now pointing guns at each other. No one else, no _obligation_ is making us do this. And you don’t have to pull that trigger if you don’t want to.”

He looked down to his gun as Dib spoke. As if waiting for it to spring to life and make a decision for him. When nothing happened, Zim glanced back up at the human.

“What will happen if I don’t?” He asked cautiously. “Where do we even go from here? Our treaty… it’s destroyed.”

Dib couldn’t help the smile that cracked so awkwardly to the side of his face. Zim wanted to try. He was going to try.

“That treaty sucked.” Dib noted, “I say we should make a new treaty.”

Finally, after all this time, Zim finally smiled back at him.

“I agree. Yes I… I think I’d like that.” He said.

Dib swept the Irken into a hug. The gun clattered uselessly to the floor. The Irken didn’t pull away, like Dib expected he might. Instead, he held on too. Pulled Dib tighter to him.

“Zim lied.” The Irken muttered into his shoulder, “You _are_ my friend.”

Dib held him closer.

“So are you, space boy… so are you.”

***

Dib opened the door to see Gaz on the other side.

“Gaz! I should have called-”

The para-scientist found himself tackled into a hug. Never in his life had Dib been hugged so much. He needed to be careful because he was starting to like it.

“I don’t know what the hell I was thinking! I sent you to Zim’s house after you basically told me he might kill you! You could have actually _died_!”

“Hello Gaz-Human!” Zim chirped from behind his broken voot cruiser.

“_You_!” She declared, barreling past her brother.

“You better not have hurt Dib or I swear to _God_ I’ll rip your antennae from your fucking skull!”

Zim slinked back from her, as Dib tried his best to pull his sister away.

“Take it easy Gaz! Zim’s your friend, remember?”

“Yeah, well so are _you_.” She defended, “You guys make my life hell. It _sucks_ when your best friends hate each other.”

Zim perked back up again.

“Actually, we don’t! We love each other now!”

“What?” Gaz questioned, feeling like she clearly missed something.

“No! We don’t _love_, each other.” Dib corrected, swatting at the Irken with a folded up blueprint, “What Zim is _trying_ to say is that we’re friends now.”

“That is what I meant!” The Irken addressed.

“Yeah, well you can’t just _say_ it like that. It creates certain _implications_.” The para-scientist informed.

“You and the Gaz-Sister say it all the time. And you told me she’s your _best_ friend.”

“She’s also _family_ Zim. Her being my sister makes it different.”

“Your _sister_?” He questioned, “But aren’t you technically-”

The younger Membrane sibling glared the alien down and stood at the ready to protect her brother.

“Don’t,” Was all that Gaz had to say, and the Irken backed off.

Dib placed a calming hand to his sisters’ shoulder.

“It’s alright. He didn’t mean anything bad. Zim’s still learning.” The para-scientist defended.

Gaz looked Zim over, and once she felt everything was alright, she backed off.

“I’ll forgive you this once.” She noted, “But that’s all you get.”

The Irken grinned.

“That’s more chances than I’ve gotten lately, so I’ll take it.” He replied.

His sister seemed to finally notice the sorry state of the house.

“What happened here?”

“Oh, my Tallest tried to kill me.” Zim answered casually.

“Only tried to kill you, huh?” She sassed, “What did you do to piss 'em off?”

“I existed.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, Zim and I spent the past five hours reprogramming the base.” Dib explained, “They shouldn’t have access to any of the center controls now. Namely, the self destruct functions.”

“Aww, but I wanted to explode.” Gir whined, as he flopped back into the couch with disappointment.

“No Gir!” The Irken reprimanded, “I didn’t spend four straight days and nights building a central control processing unit _from_ _scratch_ just so you could blow yourself up at the next opportunity.”

The robot kicked his legs into the couch and shouted as he began to throw a fit. Zim held up his hand, and slowly, one by one counted down on his fingers. By the time he curled in the last digit, Girs’ fit was over.

“Okay,” He said, already losing interest.

“Wow,” Gaz remarked offhandedly.

Both Membrane siblings stood back, impressed.

“Yes, welcome to my nightmare.” Zim spoke with exhaustion.

Dib fished out his phone and looked to the three.

“Who wants pizza?” He asked.

The phone call was hell, but eventually a cohesive order was put through and promised in the usual thirty minutes. It arrived late, but only because Zim still believed in that old televised adage and had been intentionally sabotaging the pizza mans delivery through the satellite. Changing lights to red at every possible turn. Dib had to put a stop to it once the two had nearly caused a traffic jam that would have made their pizza late by actual hours. Zim was appalled to learn that he _still_ had to pay for the pizza, even if Dib was the one who paid for it in the end. Of course, he expected nothing less from Zim.

He and Zim spent the next couple of hours fixing the Irkens’ destroyed ship, as Toy Story played in the background. Gaz and Gir had long since fallen asleep. Dib watched Zim tighten screws as he quietly quote the movie to himself. His lips and expression were wild and sunk up perfectly with Woody as he declared that Buzz was a toy. Dib couldn’t help himself from smiling at him. He was going to have to find a way to get those walkie talkies back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally. The biggest and beefiest of bois. Is finished. I didn't sleep at all last night. It is currently eight am, and I do not plan on sleeping until nightfall. Shit's wild. Much love! <3


	17. So Just Live With Me

High School- 11th grade

“Shriiiimp...” Gaz praised salivating over her freshly delivered plate chimichangas.

She wasted no time, eating like she never had before. A mess of white queso oozed down onto her plate as she tore into the deep fried wrap mercilessly.

“That thing spits in the face of all things Mexican.” Dib noted, eating his more traditional plate of tacos.

Gaz tore away from her monstrous concoction to give her brother a critical eye.

“I’m sorry,” She began, before swallowing her food, “_What_ language did you spend six months learning? Cause last time I checked, _you_ barely know anything Spanish related either.”

It was true. The two had only recently learned of their Mexican descendancy. Again, from the bread crumbs of themselves their father would occasionally toss them. Dear old Dad found the information, “irrelevant”, stating that they were, “humans first and foremost before anything else”. While that distinction meant something in the grand scheme of things between themselves and someone, like say, _Zim _it was hardly an excuse for not telling them. Because amongst humans, it was honestly a robbery of their history, of their cultural identity.

Only serving to isolate the two of them further from their piers. Dib wouldn’t be surprised if that was their fathers’ goal.

“We live closer to Montreal!” Dib defended, “I’m more likely to encounter yetis before duedne. It was _practical_.”

Gaz scoffed, clearly the victor in this argument.

“Don’t call me out for not being “Mexican enough” if you can’t dish it.” She threw back with a smirk.

“Okay. Okay. Fair enough.” The para-scientist relented, before turning his attention to Zim, “How are the nachos by the way? Pretty good right?”

He seemed to catch Zim at a bad moment, the others face a stringy cheesy mess. The Irken was quick to snap his gooey line and hide his blushing face.

“A-adequate. I would say. It’s very- er, covered in cheese.”

“You mean cheesy?” Gaz asked, again not bothering to wait between bites.

“If that is the correct way of describing it, yes.” Zim accepted.

Dib smiled fondly at him before snatching up some sheets of paper towels.

“Here.” He said, handing them to Zim, “This might help.”

The alien quickly swiped them from his hands and patted down his face.

“I can’t believe humans eat like this. Such a mess.”

“Whoa, whoa. Hell no. You do _not_ get to criticize how humans eat, space-boy. I’ve seen how the Tallest eat cake.”

The Irken seemed surprised by that so of course, Dib was happy to elaborate.

“Years ago. Caught it on the second set of recording equipment I’d hidden. Transmission date, February twenty second. Fifth grade. You were requesting a cure for rabid mole mutant disease.”

Zim seemed to remember then.

“Oh yeah.” The alien began, “I’d rather _not_ remember that. You might as well _wear_ the cake at that point.” He made a face of disgust poking out his tongue, “They were quite awful, weren’t they?”

“The _worst_.”

“Pretty terrible, yeah.”

The Membrane siblings synonymously agreed.

The three could talk about the Irkens’ former dictators rather casually now, and Dib was relieved. It had taken some time for Zim to recover. Gaz helped him through a lot of it. She knew a thing or two about being ignored, and had the best advice to give on the matter. Gaz helped by helping Zim discover new things about himself. Constantly showing him everything the Earth had to offer and experience.

As for Dib, he spent most of his time with Zim just listening. Mostly to the bits and pieces of his history he shared. Of how Zim had spent his whole life fighting. Fighting to acquire the rank of soldier, fighting to be promoted time and time again until the Tallest finally acknowledged him as an Invader. Only to have his efforts, all of his hard work, be stripped down into nothing more than a joke. So often his struggles hit close to home for the para-scientist, and the two of them would go back and forth venting.

Dib was sure Zim hadn’t told him everything but that was alright. Neither had he and despite that, he’d never felt closer to him.

“Shit,” Gaz jabbed at the para-scientist with her elbow, “we gotta go. We were supposed to be home like, ten minutes ago.”

Dib glanced at her phone and sure enough it was almost twenty past eight.

“Damn,” he remarked cleaning off his face.

Zim as usual seemed annoyed but there was nothing Dib could do. He and his sister had a curfew to follow. They left their respective bills on the table and headed out. Gaz spilled herself out into the backseat of the car, stealing it for herself as she enjoyed her resounding happy food coma. Dim and Zim followed suit up front and buckled in. The para-scientist quickly drove them out of the parking lot and set his sights for back home.

Switching his mp3 player back on he forwarded to the next song and hit play. Circus Contraptions’ We're All Mad began to crackle out his crusty speakers. The para-scientist knew he’d never hear the end of it if anyone heard him listening to a song like this but he could care less. He wasn’t sure, but at least it steadied his nerves. His father was going to be pissed, Dib was sure of it. The para-scientist sighed.

“I can’t believe he continues to insist on this curfew. Aren’t you seventeen? Why do _you_ need a curfew?!” Zim pouted, folding his arms in a huff.

Dib let out a soft laugh.

“I know what you mean. He’s been like this ever since I got my ears pierced, and that’s not even the worst of it.” Dib furiously gripped the steering wheel before he vented, “After I used the money he “funded” to me on my birthday on an affordable car I could use instead of the lab equipment he _wanted_ me to buy, he wouldn’t let me leave the house for over a month! I spent three _years_ working a shitty part-time job at the grocery store, saving up my money just so I could _try_ and afford this car. He knew that too. I thought him giving me that money was him wanting to help. My mistake.”

“That’s stupid. I hate it!” The Irken proclaimed.

“So do I!” Dib agreed, “It fucking sucks!”

The two of them screamed, collectively letting lose their frustrations. Gaz groaned from the back, before tumbling around to face the seat. She muttered for them to shut up, but otherwise had barely roused. It was a sort of tradition between the two that Zim had started, after Dib couldn’t find a reason for him not to. The car had become a safe place for them to let lose and go unhinged when needed. Although lately, it was beginning to feel like a daily ritual, for the para-scientist.

Dib relaxed his grip on the wheel. With his nerves finally calmed he felt like he could breathe again. He felt better, though he knew it wouldn’t be for long. They had already made it back to their neighborhood.

“Just gotta put up with it for the next two years.” Dib recited to himself, “After I graduate I never have to go back. I can handle that.”

First stop, Zims’ house. Dib parked some distance away from the sidewalk. For whatever reason, his dingy old car sat just low enough to the ground that the sidewalk actually scraped the door. The last thing the para-scientist needed was for it to suddenly stop closing. That one cop still had it out for him and he wasn’t about to get another ticket.

“Why?” Zim questioned.

He glanced over at the alien.

“Why?” The human repeated, not fully understanding.

“Yeah. _Why_ do you have to put up with it?”

Dib’s face scrunched in confusion.

“Uh, because I _live_ there?” He elaborated, thinking it was pretty obvious.

The Irken scoffed.

“So just live with me.”

The para-scientist stared Zim like he’d grown a second set of arms. His face flushing hot.

“Wait. _What_?”

“It would be more efficient if you were to live directly on the base. That way we could work on the ship whenever we want!”

“Are- are you asking me-” Dib tried.

“Ack!” Before the alien interrupted him, “Since when did it start raining?!”

Dib hadn’t noticed either. As Zim stared out the window and argued with the clouds, Dib was already slipping off his coat. He draped it over the Irkens’ shoulders surprising the other, as he rolled his eyes.

“I _told_ you to bring a coat.” He chastised, not able to help himself from cracking a small smirk.

Zim said nothing as he glared at him with, Dib noted, a cute embarrassed flush to his face. The Irken shifted the para-scientists’ coat to cover his head, his only response. Once he opened the car door, Dib realized he hadn’t yet answered Zim. Or better yet, knew if his statement had been an actual invitation.

“See you at school, Dib-Shit!” Zim called out as he ran for his house.

“Hey!”

He often regretted teaching Zim how to curse. He had no responsibility. Often using his new found power for evil. Dib hadn’t been left with much of a way to say anything back before the alien was already snug in his base. Though Zim was happy to press himself into the window while he flipped him off. Dib retaliated by sticking his tongue out at him with a bird of his own before laughing and driving off.

Living with Zim. Dib gave the idea some thought as he drove them home. Now wasn’t that just domestic? He couldn’t help the dopey smile that thought gave him. He’s felt pretty strongly for the little green bug for some time now. Little touches and accidental confessions slipped from Dib when he least expected them to.

He often found _himself_ taking Zims’ hand, and it was so much harder for him to correct people when they mistook them for a couple. Because Dib didn’t really want to correct them. Admitting that to himself took time. He was startled at first. The two had only officially been friends at that point for about a year. The intensity of his feelings growing so fast was unusual, to say the least.

Then again, Dib didn’t usually follow through with _normal_ social customs now, did he?

“You gonna live with him or what?”

“Holy shit-!”

The para-scientist startled at the sudden break in quiet, nearly crashing into a curb. He’d completely forgotten about his sister being in the back seat.

“Gaz! What the hell? Don’t do that!” He sputtered as he clutched at his chest.

“_Are_ you _going_ to _live_ with _him_?” She repeated.

They were entering their neighborhood, and Dib could see their house. Yep. The porch light was off. He was going to be in the kitchen. Black and one sugar. Dib could already smell the coffee.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Come on, Dib. How are you gonna be his little house husband if you deny the _house_?”

“I’m not going to be a house husband!” Dib quickly shot down, “And besides, how do I know if he was being serious? You know he doesn’t think things through! What if-”

Dib’s car slowly stopped moving.

“Wait.”

He checked the gas gauge, and frowned.

“Gaz,” He inquired, turning back to face her, “did you remember to fill the tank after you borrowed the car?”

“What? I didn’t forget! Look it’s halfway.” She said pointing at the gauge.

Without turning away from her, Dib tapped the plastic of the dash board and sure enough, the little hand of the gas gauge dropped from half to empty. The para-scientist knew his car too well, and gave his sister a knowing look.

“So I forgot.” She admitted.

“Well come on.” Her brother began, “Help me push.”

Dib swiped his keys from the ignition and was already outside. Gaz followed and the two pushed the car towards their driveway. In the rain.

“Ugh, well,” Gaz spoke, gritting as she helped shove the car, “at least _now_ we have an excuse.”

“Not, hmft, really. You know Dad.”

At least the drive way wasn’t _too_ far. Dib was grateful enough for that.

“You know if you, mmf, lived with Zim you wouldn’t, urrg, have to deal with Dad.”

“It’s not like I can, ugh, run on over to his house, mmf, in the middle of the night and ask him, _this stupid car_, ask him if he was being serious.”

Dib had enough with the car and decided the front of their driveway was a good place to park the car. The two caught their breath for a moment.

“Why not? It’s about as stupid as everything else you two do.”

“How the hell are _you_ my closest support?” He asked, more for himself than her.

“It’s because I love you."

Gaz slung an arm over her brothers shoulder as she drug them inside. The rain left him soggy and cold, making it the perfect time for a lecture.

“You’re an hour late.”

Did that voice come from the kitchen? Dib thinks yes. That’s point one. The light flickered on, but he didn’t need to see to indicate point two. If there was _any_ smell Dib could recognize, it was coffee. A strong, bitter, scent indicates low traces of sugar.

One cube. Point three. Check. Mate.

“It wasn’t his fault.” Gaz cut in, “The car broke down and-”

“Gazlene. Go to your room.” The professor directed.

“Come on! You can’t just-”

“To your room. Right now.”

He was firm. She sighed, and went up stairs. Dib eyed that she only pretended to walk from her place at the top. She grabbed one of the doors and creaked it open, before slamming it shut. Slowly and quietly Gaz walked back to the top step and sat down. His sister gave an encouraging thumbs up to him before he turned his attention to his Dad.

“Take a seat.” He ordered, gesturing to the chair beside him.

Dib did as he asked. He shivered, his clothes still soaked from the rain, as he waited for the lecture.

“Your curfew is eight. What time is it right now?” His father asked.

Dib rolled his eyes.

“I _asked_ you what time it was. What is the time?”

“It’s _nine_.” The para-scientist answered.

“Nine o’ two.” His father corrected, “Where do you get off coming home so late?”

“You know Dad, most parents don’t call nine a late hour for their _teenage_ kids.”

“Well, I am not most parents.”

“_That’s_ a hell of a way to put it.”

“I _know_ what you’re referring to with that remark. Don’t think that I don’t. But this is about your reckless behavior right now.” The professor redirected.

“What’s reckless about being an hour late to a curfew that ends before ten?”

“The later you stay out, the more likely you are to encounter the sort of people that thrive from the opportunities your little stunt pulled.”

“My stunt?” Dib questioned.

“The reason I haven’t built you a car yet it for this exact reason. How could you let your car breakdown?”

“Oh, as if _that’s_ something I have any say in. _Hey_,” Dib teased, “I think I’m gonna go for a drive, better make sure the tanks on _empty_! That way I can push my car out in the _freezing_ fucking rain! So much fun!”

“You know how I feel about cursing.” His father reminded.

“Feel?” Dib scoffed, “I’m surprised you feel anything at all! Did you not just hear what I said?”

“I was listening,” His father argued, “and what I heard is that you forgot to fill your _fossil fuel_ car with _fossil_ _fuel_.”

“Wow, Dad. Way to hear what you want to hear.”

His father slammed his fist onto the table.

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, son!”

Dib slammed his fist back.

“Why can’t you just _try_ to understand where I’m coming from!” He argued, “You’re so quick to judge me and think the worst!”

“You can’t honestly come into this house with ears _pinned_ like a porcupine, dressed like your going to a _funeral_ home, wearing make up with paint on your nails and expect me to _not_ think the worst. Just look at you! What happened to you? You used to dress like a scientist. Not this bizarre, franken, monstrosity. What ever happened to that?”

The para-scientist rolled his eyes. He wanted this conversation to be over with. They seemed to get worse and worse with each lecture.

“Dress like a scientist?” He repeated, “I haven’t dressed up like _you_ since I was five.”

“You know. Sometimes I miss that.” His father admitted.

An unfounded hope surged through Dib.

“Really?”

This was good. Connecting. They were connecting. Like a father and son.

“You know, that might not be a bad idea.” The man said to himself, standing from his chair, “There’s always trial and error in these things. Perhaps I could make a _new_ clone? The science behind it has progressed quite rapidly since my last experiment, and it would be even _easier_ to create a clone from scratch. How would you feel about sharing the family legacy with a brother?”

Dib dug his fingers into his hair and pulled. Growling in frustration.

“Just. Fuck. OFF! You insufferable _bastard_! I am _so_ glad that I am _nothing_ like you!”

He was cold. He was tired. He was done. Dib held onto himself, hoping to warm up the sogging frigid ache in his bones.

“Uh, son. You are me.” The professor reiterated.

He looked his father square in the eyes, going right up to the mans face.

“No. I’m. _Not_.” Dib grit from his teeth.

The para-scientist turned on his heels and walked away.

“If you insist on being this way you can just go to your room.”

Dib looked towards the front door. Then he glanced up the stairs. Gaz tossed something down towards him. He looked inside to find a small collection of his things stuffed inside. Spare clothes, notebooks, and his long time favorite Sasquatch plushie. He looked back up.

Gaz pointed towards the door.

“Well?” He heard his father say from behind him.

Dib turned to face him.

“No.”

“Fine, you can sleep on the couch for all I care. Just go to bed. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“I’m not going to the couch.” Dib defied, slinging on his bag.

“Insomnia or not you-” The professor stopped himself as Dib began to walk for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going? Honestly, are you _really_ so childish that you’re going to try and sleep in your car?”

“You told me to go to bed, so I’m going to bed.” Dib clarified, grabbing a hold of the door, “And Zim offered me a bed.”

“You can’t just-”

Dib didn’t quite catch the rest as he headed out the door. He bolted down the street, and didn’t look back.

“DIB!” His father shouted out at him from the house.

The rain was heavy, leaving him drenched wreck but he didn’t care. It was enough just to be doing this. He told himself he just had to put up with it for so long. When all he had to do was leave. Zim always seemed to have the most obvious answers to the para-scientists tangled mess of problems. Dib would suffer his “I told you so”’s, because it was the least he could do for finally giving him an out.

His breathing labored as he neared Zims’ picket fence. Dib crossed the sidewalk, beginning to slump and stagger as he stepped. He flopped himself against the door, feeling exhausted, but he was almost there. He just… had… Dib felt his vision blur before going black.

***

“_Security breach. Security breach. Intruder on the premises._”

Zim looked away from the movie toward his computers interface. It was probably just a squirrel. Though, just in case.

“Computer.” He requested, “Show camera feed.”

Zim adjusted the humans’ coat on himself, letting it swallow him up like a blanket. As long as no one else could see him indulging in it, then he supposed it was alright to enjoy the perks of being small. Namely wearing the humans’ things. They were always just so stupidly big! Wearing such a large coat made the alien feel powerful, as well as warm. The camera feed showed him the front door.

“Dib?”

The human was indeed on the other side of the door. The Irken frowned. Aw. Did he really need his coat so _soon_? All well. Zim made to remove it before he watched him. Dib fell against the door. He raised his arm to knock, before dropping his fist and going still.

“Dib!”

Zim ran for the door. When it opened, Dib dropped onto him and the Irken was instantly soaked with water. The substance burned, and ate at his skin. He did his best to ignore it as he led the human inside. He carried the para-scientist, using his pak legs to lift him up, and gently set him down on the sofa.

“Computer. Scan the human.”

“_Scanning_.” The computer reported.

A green light ran from the tip of Dibs’ hair right down to his shoes.

“_Scan complete. Readings indicate several __abnormalities_.”

“List the abnormalities.”

Zim took the humans face into his hands. His wet skin burned to touch, but the Irken wanted to offer him at least some small form of comfort. He had to pry his hands away when the water burned past his skin and through to the muscle.

“_Abnormalitys include; raised body temperature, shivering, excessive sweat, and an increase in heart palpitations_.”

“Do the googles and analyze what those symptoms mean for humans.”

“_Readings are inconclusive. No narrowed results_.”

“Then do them one at a time. Hurry computer!”

Dib took in shallow breaths. They were a wretched sound to listen to.

“_Searching. Result with all symptoms found. Diagnosis. Fever._”

Zim brushed the humans’ hair from his face as worry furrowed into his brow.

“What is this _fever_ and what do we do to stop it? What’s the cure?”

“_Fevers are a natural defense against infection in humans. There is no cure. Fevers are meant to run through a natural course __to stop infection._”

“Fine. Then what should I do?” Zim questioned, “I can’t just do nothing!”

“_Removal of the wet garments should alleviate the possibility of symptoms progressing_.”

Zim clawed the para-scientists clothes off furiously. Shredding off the fabric and cutting it to ribbons. He was sure Dib wouldn’t be too happy about losing one of his favorite shirts, but for the time being, Zim was hard pressed to care.

“What now?” The Irken asked, trying his best not to look at the humans’ more… interesting parts.

“_Current body t__emperature __is __above safe levels according to updated information__. Shock bath required_.”

The computer prepared a chamber of recovery gel for the human. The temperature was adjusted accordingly before Dib was thrown in the capsule. The gel was a breathable substance and offered healing that the Irken was sure no mere _hospital_ could provide. The para-scientist was in good hands. He was still unconscious, however. Which didn’t sit well with Zim.

“Computer. Run a diagnostics check.”

“_B__ody temperature __still above average.__ However, __increase in temperature __has __stopped. The human is now stabilized to __safe __levels __for __a __fever_.”

Zim sat down beside the rim of the capsule. He placed his hand against the glass. Dib was still unconscious.

“Run a diagnostics check.”

“_No change in status_.”

He readjusted the humans’ coat over himself.

“Run a diagnostics check.”

“_No change in status_.”

Zim leaned against the glass and listened to the hum of the capsule.

“Run a diagnostics check.”

***

Dib opened his eyes only for his vision to be hazed by a wash of blue. He felt like he was swimming and sure enough, as he moved his arms and legs about the para-scientist felt himself bobbing about in… water? Dib held his breath. Though, he was pretty sure this wasn’t water.

“_Human has regained consciousness._”

Dib heard a computerized voice say.

“_Zim’s computer_.” He registered in his thoughts.

The para-scientist didn’t breath for a while feeling a little unsure at first, but he needed air and couldn’t stop himself from inhaling the weird fluid. It was breathable. It certainly wasn’t _oxygen_, but it was breathable. His eyes eventually adjusted to the fluid, and Dib could see a little bit easier. He wondered what he was doing in a capsule.

“_Body temperature still above average. With consciousness restored, human __nourishments i.e. __food and water, are now required._”

Dib had a fever? When did he get sick? Now he was here? He couldn’t even remember making it to Zim’s house. The front door burst open suddenly relieving the Irken, or at least a foggy image of him, as he toted two large paper bags. The alien kicked the door closed and hurried with the bags to the kitchen.

“Computer! Google the recipe for the human chicken meat soup.” Zim instructed, laying his ingredients out on the kitchen table.

“Ohhh! You gonna cook a chicken? I got the mayonnaise!” Gir announced, already trotting from the fridge.

Dib could see a blurry Zim press his hand to the robots face, stopping him.

“No! No mayonnaise, Gir. This is for Dib. He’s uh,” He paused, before he came up with a good excuse, “allergic! Yes! Terribly allergic.”

“Aw, so he can’t have any?” The robot, sadly reasoned.

“No. He can’t.”

“Okay then. I’ll go find that squirrel.” Gir said, perking back up, “He’s a hungry little boy an’ I’m gonna feed em’!”

“Yes, yes. Very good. Now run along.” Zim directed, nudging the robot towards the living room.

Gir’s disguise squeaked as he walked towards the door. He stopped in front of the capsule, noticing that Dib was awake. He waved. Dib waved back.

“Don’t mess with that capsule, Gir.” Zim commanded, “Go play outside.”

The robot saluted the Irken. Eyes flicking to red.

“Yes sir!”

They flicked back to blue and the robot raced outside with his jar of mayonnaise. Dib laughed. He stopped after hearing to the sound. It was so weirdly distant. He wasn’t very intelligible in this goop, but he tried anyway.

“—z—i—m—!” He tried to say as bubbles flowed out of his mouth.

Dib placed his hand on his throat as he watched Zim fumble about in the kitchen. Of course Zim couldn’t hear him. _He_ couldn’t even hear himself. Dib looked up and pressed his hands to the top of the capsule finding no exit in sight. He sighed. He’d just have to wait for Zim to notice him.

The para-scientist pressed his hands and an ear to the glass, hoping hear the noises coming from the kitchen a little better.

“-that the chicken flesh is properly cooking this recipe calls for a broth of it’s essence? Why is the meal considered a classic? It’s completely barbaric!”

He laughed a goo suppressed laugh. Dib never thought about chicken soup like that. He also never thought that Zim would try to make him soup. It was sweet.

“_Humans are said to enjoy the egg noodles most._” The computer replied.

“_Eggy noodles_. How do unborn chickens make noodles?” Zim scoffed.

“_Eggs are actually not unborn chickens. This is a common misconception, even amongst humans._”

“What?” Zim questioned as chopped carrots, “Then what are they?”

“_Chicken eggs, in their consumed state are unfertilized. Thus making them a product of chicken menstruation. Humans would call this a period._”

Dib was surprised. Was this how Zim usually learned things about Earth? No wonder he still managed to be surprised. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing. Dib liked how animated the Irken would get when he was learning something new.

“Is that the human bleeding ritual?” Zim asked, curiously.

“_Humans are known to have menstruation, or periods, as well._” The computer elaborated.

“But there’s no blood! Eggs are yellow. Not red.” The Irken stated, matter of factly.

“_Believing blood to be synonymous with menstruation is another common misconception._”

“What! Explain this to me.”

Dib listened as Zim chopped, diced, and boiled soup in the kitchen, all while the computer answered his questions. He wondered what it smelled like. The blue goop didn’t exactly make anything beyond breathing possible. Despite being stuck floating in a capsule, the para-scientist felt content here. Dib heard a language he couldn’t speak, singing songs he’d never heard before and it felt like he was hiding away as he got to see the real Zim.

His eyes fluttered back open when he heard something press along the glass. Dib hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. He looked down to see Zim, holding a finished bowl of chicken noodle soup, pressing his head against the capsule. Dib smiled at him, flushing from more than just the fever when he noticed that the Irken was still wearing his coat. Zim looked miserable, and the para-scientist felt for him.

“I made soup. I hope it’s to your standards.” He said, placing said soup on the floor.

“—z—i—m—!—i—‘—m——a—w—a—k—e—!—l—o—o—k——u—p—!”

Dib tried to bang on the glass but he was still exhausted, not to mention the goo was slowing his movements down to a crawl. He felt like he was trapped in jello. By the time he thought to kick his feet, Zim had turned away. Dib sighed, giving up. The only thing he could do was hope that Zim looked at him. Eventually.

“I know that I often do not think my decisions through.”

That caught the para-scientists attention. Dib slid himself down the tank until he was eye level with Zim.

“You have worried about me before. I am aware. I do not know why you would come here in the middle of the night through the rain.”

“_I told you he’d think that was weird._” Dib thought towards Gazs’ suggestion.

“But if it was because of me then… I need you to know that I was serious.”

Dib watched as Zim began to pace back and forth.

“I want you to live here- with me. I _know_ what I’m asking. I _know_ what it means. And I want _you_ to know that I don’t request this lightly, Dib. I want to build our ship together. Whenever we want! A-and I want you to make the cakes and pies and sweet thingies you love so much. That I lo-… _enjoy_, as well. I want us to go to this Virginia together and uncover the Moth Men!” He continued on, unaware of how the para-scientist was smiling at him.

“So just please wake up and accept my stupid request!” The Irken shouted, turning suddenly and slamming his fists on the glass.

Dib placed his hands against the glass able to manage a simple small knock. The glass was thick, but with the Irkens’ head pressed right up to the glass, the para-scientist knew he’d be able to feel it. Zim looked up at him with glazed eyes. The human offered a kind smile as he pointed up towards the top of the hatch.

“Dib!” The alien happily cried out.

After a quick sequencing of numbers were crunched on a keypad the capsule had sunk down and was steadily lowered into the floor. The top unscrewed with some help from the computer, and Dib was finally free of the goo. He took a deep gulp of air as he crawled along the floor and out of the tank. Going from breathing a liquefied solid back to breathing a gas was a bit of a struggle, and it left the para-scientist hacking up quite a bit of the substance as he accustomed to the change. All the while, as he recovered Zim had curled up onto the humans’ lap, wrapping himself around his torso.

Dib eventually got his lungs to cooperate, and formed a steady rhythm with his breathing again. He shivered at the sudden change in temperature, and quickly swept the tiny Irken closer in his lap, as he huddled for warmth.

“H-hey… Z-Z-Zim.” He struggled to reply back.

The Irkens head poked out from the humans chest, and as he looked down Dib could see the dark violet flush that spread across the others face. Zim tore himself out of Dibs’ hands and the para-scientist couldn’t help but whine. He was cold! Zim seemed to read his mind and took off his coat, giving it back to Dib. The Human finally looked down at himself as he adjusted the coat. Huh, so he was naked.

“C-computer! Have you finished drying the humans things?”

A pile of Dibs’ clothes was handed to the Irken who promptly thrust them towards the para-scientist.

“Here.” Zim offered, “They were wet. I had them dried.”

Dibs’ face broke into a dazed smile.

“Thanks,” He said hugging the clothes to his chest.

“Hurry and put them on. I think I’ve been subjected to _that_ for long enough.” The Irken sneered his eyes gesturing down.

Dib followed his gaze with a smirk.

“Oh, have you now?” The human retorted, “You like your findings?”

The para-scientist watched in awe as a new darker shade of violet he had yet to see stained the aliens’ face.

“Just put on the stupid flesh covering garments!” He said tossing the rest of his bag at him as he walked away to the kitchen.

Dib laughed, but did as the Irken told him. He felt better after putting on the big puffy black sweater his sister was nice enough to pack for him. It engulfed his being and was still nice and toasty from the dryer. He put on a pair of pants and some socks, and finally felt his shivers lessen. The human sighed in relief and scooped up the bowl of chicken noodle soup Zim had left him from the floor, along with his glasses on the table. He took a spoonful, noting it wasn’t all that bad, although it could stand to have a little more salt and pepper.

The human wasn’t picky however, and ate the soup without a fuss. Zim came back from the kitchen toting his own bowl of soup, although Dib noted a lack of chicken.

“You can drink the broth?” Dib asked as he sat down.

“No. This is the vegetable kind.” He noted taking a sip from his spoon.

“Huh,” He’d never heard of a vegetable noodle soup.

“How is yours?” The alien inquired, “Is it- sufficient?”

“Pretty good.” Dib noted, taking a sip from the bowl.

Zim shoved his shoulder.

“That is not how the soup is meant to be consumed!” Zim argued.

“Aw, come on. It’s easier.” Dib countered.

“Unsanitary, more like it.”

“Just try it.”

“What! No! Gross!”

“Try. It.”

Dib tipped his own bowl to his lips, as he drank his soup. Zim watched him, looking a little disturbed. Though curiosity seemed to get the better of him, as he mirrored the human. He took a cautious sip and his expression changed from unsettled, to calmly accepting. Zim pulled back his bowl and looked at his spoon. As if making his choice, he hurled the utensil back into the kitchen before going back to drinking his soup.

“See. Easier.” Dib remarked, placing his own spoon more thoughtfully on the table.

Zim finished off his bowl, and placed it on the table beside Dibs’ spoon before fishing for the remote. He turned on the t.v. just in time for the two of them to catch the end of Iron Giant together. Dib knew there was a burning question on the others mind. In a way, he already answered it, but he wanted to say it anyway. A thought came to mind of how he could say it and the para-scientist smiled.

“Hey Zim.” Dib uttered as the end credits rolled.

“Yes.”

“...Stupid request accepted.”

He could see the Irken smiling too, but he wouldn’t go drawing attention to it. The movie was already playing again and he didn’t want to miss his opportunity to watch it with Zim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, great. Now I have to write another chapter for this arc! I didn't have enough room for the stuff I was originally gonna do here. All wells. Still like how this one turned out. I'm in a writing fever! p.s. In my head Dib sounded like Gooigi, when he was stuck in his tube. If that counts for anything.


	18. To Infinity and Beyond

College-

Dib shoved his last box of notebooks as far as he could in his trunk. It protested at first but eventually accepted the space, sitting comfortably with the rest of his things.

“There,” He remarked, happy to be done with the ordeal, “that’s the last box.”

Dib felt a nudge against his side.

“Actually,” The Irken offered presenting one last final box.

“B-but I- There’s no-! Gah!”

Dib threw his hands up. Defeated by cardboard. Seriously? He was done. To hell with this compact nineties aesthetic of a car! Zim laughed as he dropped the box off in the humans’ hands.

“Honestly Dib. Did you really expect your tiny car to hold an entire _labs_ worth of equipment inside it?” He teased, savoring the para-scientists’ pouting.

“I wouldn’t have so much stuff if _you_ didn’t insist on it.” Dib reminded him.

“Oh _please_. The equipment the humans at your _collage_ have is serviceable, at best. But without the proper tools to hone your wits, you might as well let Gir offer you a higher education.”

Said loyal robot was currently laying on the ground, running in circles in the dirt hoping to, quote, “cut a giant hole in the ground so he could make a pool”. How Gir planned to do that, Dib wasn’t sure but he admired his effort. Turning his attention back to Zim, Dib could tell that he was nervous. Honestly, he was too.

“I know I already asked this-” Dib began.

“I’ll. Be. Fine.” Zim cut off, saying the same thing that he’s said before.

Dib could see the unsure way he held himself. So unlike his usual confidence. He rubbed his cheek without a thought caressing the space of his skin Zim had slid so close to that night. It was an accident, he had to remind himself. Dib knew that, even when he liked to imagine he was wrong. The Irken glanced back up at him.

Before Zim could notice him doing it again, Dib tore his hand away. He didn’t want to make the alien think he was teasing him. Zim already said it was a mistake. No need to make things weird again. Dib dropped down to his knees, pushing the box to the side. He opened his arms and scooped the tiny Irken up into a hug.

“D-Dib!” The alien squawked, startled by the embrace.

“_Shhhh_-shut up.” Dib replied, holding onto the other firmly, “I’m not going to see you again for the next three months. I want a hug, damn it.”

Zim went limp in his arms, a half-hearted protest, but Dib knew he wouldn’t begrudge it for long. Zims’ arms threatening to break the human in half once he gave in told Dib as much. The para-scientist let his curious hands wander to those antennae of Zims’ and the Irken followed suit, carding his claws through Dibs’ hair. They sighed, letting themselves indulge in the others touch one last time.

“You will return? In three months time?” Zim asked, his wavering voice breaking the humans’ heart.

“I have nowhere else to go when I come back but home, Zim.” Dib reminded him, “I promise. I’ll be here.”

Dib buried his face into Zims’ shoulder. He wanted to remember the sweet mix of nectar and toxin that lingered on the aliens’ skin, and burn it in his mind before he had to go.

***

It was unusual just how many socks Dib had left behind. Zim was currently dipping behind the t.v. after finding yet another balled up sock. This one tucked away and hiding in the wires. The Irken grumbled as he dug around to reach it. He’s told the human so many times not to dispose of his socks like this. There was satisfaction in finally reaching the sock only to be immediately disturbed as he toss it away in disgust.

The thing was covered in cobwebs and it made his skin crawl at the touch. The sock flew off, thunking against the wall on the other side of the room. Zim sighed. Disgusting or not, it still needed to go down the garment shoot for cleaning. He trotted over to the couch, picking it back up carefully. He looked down at the crusty cloth in his hands with an equal measure of disdain and longing, before a dark fabric sticking out of the couch caught his eye. Losing interest in what he was doing, the sock fell from his hands as he grabbed at the black piece of cloth.

It was one of Dib’s shirts. He scowled. Zim always hated this shirt. It was one thing to try and expose him, it was another to say that any species of alien looked like _that_! Let alone that Dib had said it reminded him of _Zim_, in particular. He may have green skin and yes, his eyes _are_ large but he refused to acknowledge the similarities any further than that. Oh how he loathed this stupid shirt!

Zim hated how the face glowed in the dark. He could always tell when Dib was about to sneak up behind him, those nights he kidnapped him away from a long day of work. Bringing him up stairs so the two of them could watch t.v. and eat snacks together. He especially hated how big it was. It was so baggy and excessive, the thing might as well be a blanket. It made him have to tie it to the side when he wore it, as he was currently doing.

Worse of all, he hated the smell. A mix of coffee fueled long nights, pine trekked investigations through the woods, and something Zim couldn’t find anywhere else. He burred the shirt over his head and let his antennae go wild from the sensory. There was an immediate relief, as Zim felt all of his worries and stress melt away for a moment. As if his human was still here. However, he wasn’t, and he hated that too.

***

Dib wasn’t sure if he had the appetite to finish this pie. The para-scientist had spent the better part of his afternoon making it. The smells it brought and the memories that followed had scratched that itch of longing but now that it was all said and done he didn’t find himself feeling all that hungry. He smiled thinking of Zim, though. Dib knew if he were here, he’d have to fight with the idiot just to make sure he didn’t burn his mouth off. Knowing his patience.

Whenever Dib ate anything with nectar he could see how Zim got to being the way he was. The stuff was overbearing. He could only use a teaspoon of it for his own consumption, and it often replaced vanilla in his recipes, but it was savory. If the para-scientist had to boil it down to one choice, he’d say Zim was most like the cinnamon flavor. He could be harsh and strong. Dib certainly had the scars over the years to prove it.

Of course, the tough kick of cinnamon has an easy remedy; just add sugar. Who knew? All those years Dib had been trying to make an apple pie with vinegar. Then, out of curiosity, he added a pinch of sugar and slowly replaced the bitter out of their recipe. Ever since he’s gotten a taste for how cinnamon apple pie should be, that old recipe could never satisfy him now, and no sugar substitute could ever do it justice. Dib scrunched up his face as his thoughts tried to ramble on but he was starting to run out of awkward cooking analogys.

He just missed Zim.

“Hey man.”

Dib turned from his place at the kitchen table to see his roommate. If he wasn’t hungry before, he certainly wasn’t now. That red rash around the others mouth was not all too pretty. It looked itchy, much to Dib’s annoyance.

“My uh, doctor told me to ask- I-I mean he uh,”

The para-scientist took a damn near condescending bite of his pie.

“That almost looks like an _allergic_ reaction.” Dib calmly stated, with a full mouth, as he pointed at the man with his fork. “You haven’t been going through my food, have you?”

“N-no!” The man denied as he scratched his face.

Dib loved the advances of intergalactic modern medicine. It was nice knowing he and Gaz were the only humans on Earth immune to the allergen lizospan. His roommates always had to learn the hard way.

“_Okay_… and this is just small talk, but I heard somewhere that milk baths might be good for that.”

Dib watched his eyes light up before the man scoffed at him and glared.

“W-whatever. That’s stupid. I’m not gonna do that.”

Oh, but he will, and Dib wasn’t about to wake up tomorrow and _not_ eat the cereal he just bought. The para-scientist stood up and slipped on his coat. It might take the guy a couple of hours to work up the nerve to actually do it. Maybe he’d walk to the store instead. Dib looked back at the dish on the stove and sighed. He really needed to stop making Zim’s favorite pie.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to having more than two pieces of it.

***

It was nine, right? He said to call at nine so why wasn’t the human answering? Or maybe he was trying to call? So again Zim slammed his hand down to end the call. He drummed his fingers along the arms of his chair. What phrase had Dib used, “have patience”?

Well Zim didn’t like it, and he shouldn’t have to possess this _patience_.

“Where are you, my human?”

The screen fuzzed into view to show Skoodge with a tub of ice cream.

“Who’s a human now?” He asked through his frozen dinner.

“Skoodge?!” Zim questioned, “Why are _you_ calling me?”

“I saw that you were online.” He reasoned, “Thought I’d say hi.”

Zim glared at the screen.

“Well get _off_ the line. I’m waiting on a very important call.”

“Ooh! Expecting saucy calls on a Florpsten night? You got fun when you defected, sir.”

The former soldier rolled his eyes.

“We’ve been over this Skoodge. I don’t have rank anymore, and I never actually had rank to begin with. And don’t call me _sir_.” Zim insisted, “Call me your lord and master, Zim the Almighty instead.”

The fellow Irken laughed between spoonfuls of ice cream.

“Good one, sir.”

Zim was only half kidding, and could only halfheartedly look at Skoodge. Even if he didn’t agree with Irks ideals anymore, he often found himself feeling like a disgrace when face to face with a fellow soldier. Some part of him would always feel like a failure, he was sure.

“I don’t understand why you bother on consorting with me.” He slumped back into his seat and smirked at the screen bitterly, “You _know_ it makes you look bad, right?”

His old smeethood friend offered him a kind smile in return.

“Are you kidding? You may not belong to the empire anymore, but you were amazing! Remember the florp jelly?”

He did recall that substance from his training, but what of it? He nodded his head.

“You realized it had a rubber compound to it and coated yourself in it. You were the only one who wasn’t electrocuted during the lightning trials. And now it’s an industry standard!” Skoodge gushed.

“That doesn’t change the fact that I’m still a traitor to the empire,” Zim reminded, “and that is something I do _not_ plan to remedy. I’m quite proud of my exiled status, Skoodge. Nothing you could say would persuade me otherwise. I will never belong to Irk again.”

The soldier simply scoffed at him.

“Yeah? And so what, Zim? I’ve missed you. You’re still my friend. No loyalties could put a stop to that. You made me who I am today. I can’t thank you enough for that.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of this. Someone from the empire had remembered him, and _didn’t_ hate him? Missed him, knew him and his shortcomings, and was _still_ reaching out to him? Zims’ smile turned warm.

“A few more thank yous would be appreciated.” The defectee playfully noted.

“Alright then, thank you, thank you, thank you.” His former comrade announced, bowing with his spoon across his spooch as he spoke.

“Just three?” Zim questioned with a smirk.

“You are pushing it, sir.” Skoodge sassed.

Another call rang on the line. Zim gave Skoodge an almost pleading look and he understood.

“Say no more,” He replied, ending the call.

The human, looking halfway to the grave finally appeared on the other line.

“Dib!” The Irken greeted, with delight.

The para-scientist seemed confused as he gave his heartiest smile.

“Someone’s in a good mood.” He said, his fingers drifting toward the screen.

Between receiving the unexpected reassurance of an old friend, and the welcome sight of his human basked in the moonlight reaching out towards him, the Irken felt like he was. He couldn’t pretend to be bitter right now, even if he tried. Zim smiled with disgusting fondness.

“How’s school, smelly?”

***

Dib wondered how Zim was doing.

“Um hey,”

He hoped his alien was doing okay.

“Can I have my change?”

Was he getting enough nectar? Dib knew Zim wasn’t always in the mood to eat it but it kept him healthy. Maybe he should have convinced the Irken to get caramel instead of cinnamon. At least then he wouldn’t have to wonder if he was skipping out on his nectar for the day.

“It’s like, two dimes and a quarter. If I could just, _maybe_...”

He had four overdue term papers to finish by the end of the week. Everything was due, constantly. Dib didn’t think it would be _this_ bad. Apparently studying for two majors at once wasn’t as easy as he thought it would have been. It would pay off though. Sure, he had to work two different jobs just to- _Oh shit he was working right now_!

“Oh my- I am _so_ sorry sir!” The para-scientist apologized as he snapped back into his customer service smile, “Would you like that with whip or without?”

“On my ramen…?” The guy asked, confused.

Dib looked down to find that, indeed, he was scanning a package of chicken flavored ramen.

“I, uh- shit...”

_Wow_\- that was stupid.

“S’all good dude. I’m working like _three_ different jobs right now, so I know how it is. Can I get that change?”

Dib was grateful night shift belonged to the millennialy inclined.

***

“And you asked him if he wanted _whip cream_?” Zim chortled, hands busy as he tinkered away at his desk.

“I know, I know.” The human admitted sheepishly, eyes hazy and unfocused from his end of the screen, “I’m just glad I’ve still got my job.”

“This one and the barista career, correct?” The Irken absently commented as he focused on his work.

“Well…”

Zim’s antenna twitched, already cautious of that response. He put down the equipment he was working on.

“_Dib_...” The Irken preemptively reprimanded.

The human gave him a hopeless smile. Zim frowned.

“… I _may_ have gotten another job?”

“Dib!” Zim argued, shooting up from his desk, “You can’t just-”

“Relax. It’s _fine_. Besides, you didn’t see how much my tuition is for this month!”

“_Rtsk __hkt_! You are already putting yourself through enough stress as it is, Dib!”

The human laughed and gave him _that_ look. It made the Irkens’ blood boil that look. Dib’s brow had furrowed in determination as he gave him a smirk. A face that tired had no business looking so confident. Zim was sure it would be that smug aura of his that killed the para-scientist one of these days. All the more reason for him to worry.

“Trust me. I _know_ what I’m doing. It’s going to take a little work to make my career a reality. We have to do what we can to make the most out of our lives here on Earth. Remember?”

The human often used those words against him. Though, Zim knew it was his fault for supplying them in the first place.

“Right.” Zim agreed.

What else could he do?

“I miss you.”

Zim watched as Dib placed his hand over the screen. It was just a hologram. There was nothing to feel but Dib said it made him feel better, reaching out towards him. Zim couldn’t explain why, but Dib was right. So he did it too. He liked to imagine the light, so soft and warm against his hand was Dib.

His antennae folded flat against his head. Dib had to go. His human always waited until the end of their conversations to tell Zim that he missed him. Zim didn’t like missing Dib. He’s never had to _miss_ Dib. It… bothered him.

“Zim misses you too.”

After he says his good byes and the screens glow fades, Zim is left back in the dark. His hand falls away. The Irken crashed back down into his chair, ready to throw himself back into his work. Though, instead of jumping back in he hesitates. Zim rotated his screwdriver about in his hands. This device was due by the end of the day.

This was his last project for the week then he would receive payment. After this would be another, more payment and so on and so forth. Zim had made something steady for himself. He had no use for Earth monies thankfully, and didn’t bother to waste his time earning them. He’d saved up so much intergalactic monies he was sure he’d be safe for sometime. Zim was fine.

The same could not be said for his human. He was on his third job, studying two majors, all so he could have one career. Then there was life after all his schooling. Zim couldn’t believe humans spent nearly twenty five years of their short lives studying and for what? This _collage _debt? Being a para-scientist full-time surely wasn’t going to be enough to pay for debt, housing, water, _food_!

Zim felt his hands shake as he imagined Dib having to work even _more_ jobs just so he could be happy. If the human looked like death now, how would he look maintaining _even more_ jobs? Panic overwhelmed the tiny Irken, because he just _knew _Dib was stupid enough to think such a thing was a good idea. Humans were frail and didn’t the para-scientist once tell him his species could die from stress? Dib looked stressed. Was he dying right now?!

“Wow, you don’t look so good. You want some tomato stuff?”

Zim ignored his minion, along with his offered jar of pasta sauce, in favor of clearing off his work table. He tossed it all to the floor. To hell with work. This planet was poison and he wasn’t about to them suffer it anymore. It was time for them to leave and to make some new plans. He’d put this off for long enough.

“Okey dokey then. Guess I’m just talkin’ to myself.” Gir contended with, as he guzzled down the jar.

Zim revised his blueprints, scribbling off new ideas and solutions he hadn’t thought of before. It was all so simple, he’d just given up on their ship too soon. He had the monies now. He had the resources. He had his friends and… whatever he and Dib were hopefully becoming. That was all Zim needed for now.

He’d figure out everything else along the way.


	19. Take What You're Given

The present-

It was so easy to get lost in his memories, on those nights Dib couldn’t seem to fall asleep. The hours flew past effortlessly and without so much as a sun to tell him otherwise it felt as though he were left to dwell on an eternal night. So he dwelled. Laying in his bed, with Zim fast asleep in his arms, Dib dwelled on how he came to fall in love with such an entitled, arrogant, funny, beautiful, extraterrestrial from the stars.

***

Middle School- 5th grade

Zims’ been quiet. Did Dib do something to ruin their enemyship? That’s what the para-scientist liked to call it. It was like a friendship except with hating and stuff. You know, cause they hated each other. Or at least he _thought_ they did.

Why wasn’t Zim fighting him anymore? Was it because he didn’t think Dib was a threat? Did he find a better nemesis? The human supposed that was possible. However, Dib shook it from his mind. He wouldn’t just sit back and wait for his answer in radio silence.

If Zim wasn’t going to come out find Dib then Dib would just go after him. The para-scientist wasn’t about to lose worst enemy _that_ easy. No one else was allowed to hate Zim but _him_! Dib would make sure of it.

***

Middle School- 6th grade

This was hardly fair. Dib sulked at his desk, scribbling furiously in his notebook. He’d excuse the mess and say he was just trying to shade his picture of Sasquatch but honestly, he was starting to tear at the paper. It wasn’t his fault though. It was Zims’. As usual.

Why did he have to dress like that? Skirts, skirts, skirts, nearly everyday now he was wearing skirts! Dib couldn’t get it out of his head. Zim had worn an entire rainbow pallet of colors, along with just about every cut of style. Long skirts that were high on the waist, short skirts that showed off his legs. Ruffled skirts, puffy skirts, cute skirts- _what_?

Dib halted what he was doing. His pencil crunched as the freshly sharpened lead snapped against his paper.

“_No. No! __**No, No, No**__! What the heck?! __Why__would I-__? Ugh! Zim is _not_ cute! He’s a weird bug lizard from outer space! You saw him harvesting kids’ _organs_! There is no universe where someone like _that_ is cute!_” The para-scientist reminded himself in his thoughts.

Dib looked down at his paper to see that his hands had unknowingly betrayed him. Littered across the page were various stick figure doodles of the invader, posing in various skirts. The para-scientists face burned with embarrassment as he tore out the page from his notebook, balled it up as tightly as he could, and tossed it into the trash. It didn’t quite make it’s mark, but Dib refused to touch that cursed sheet of paper ever again. What was _wrong_ with him? The bell for next period rang, finally giving him an excuse to get as far away from the piece of paper as he could.

“_Stupid skirts. Stupid aliens. Stupid skirts _on_ aliens._” He thought as he stalked his way out of class.

***

Middle School- 7th grade

“Dib-Beast?” The alien addressed, shuffling that much closer to Dib.

“Yeah?” The human answered, as he readjusted his coat over the two of them, “What do you want you dumb lizard?”

The rain was coming down rather hard. Neither of them had anticipated rain, so seeing it just after school didn’t leave the Irken with too many options. Dib may have considered Zim his enemy, but that hardly meant he wanted the invader to die. So using his trench coat to shield them both from the rain was a _logical_ decision. Nothing else further than that.

“Zim does not care for your Earthly sentiments Dib, and owes you nothing. With that said, understand that I will _not_ be thanking you for this.”

“Whatever Zim. I don’t care.” The para-scientist shrugged off, already knowing Zim was going to be a jerk about this.

“Although,” He added.

Dib glanced down at the Irken, with a hint of intrigue.

“I could say that your valiant rescue is… adequate- in preserving this mighty Irken specimen. And that perhaps, _maybe_ your smelly coat is… a _nice_ sort of smelly…”

The human didn’t know what to say. He felt himself flush as a smile he couldn’t fight off worked it’s way onto face. He smelled nice? Dib hardly noticed the alien stealing his coat as he booked it towards his base. Despite standing outside in the cold rain Dib was left with a rather strong warmth, spreading out from his chest as his heart raced. Why was this affecting him so much?

He genuinely didn’t know, but it was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him.

***

High School- 8th grade

Dib watched Zim eat his “severed” lady fingers. As he dipped them in raspberry “blood” the alien was ranting about how the clowns in Killer Klowns From Outer Space should have won. After all, they were clearly just _poor_, _defenseless_, _starving_ tourists. The _least_ the humans could have done was offer their worthless meat bodies for their guests. How rude, right? When Zim put it like that, how could Dib argue?

Oh but he did. Because he loved the way the Irken sputtered at his reasonings. The way Zim rolled his eyes as Dib told him that life was not something to be sacrificed so lightly. It was so easy to work Zim up. He got riled over the dumbest things, so how could the human _not_ provoke him?

“So if Killer Klowns _did_ come to Earth, would you let them eat me?” Dib asked, a sly smile on his lips as he swiped a lady finger for himself.

He loved how the alien did a double take at that. Dib watched as Zim tried to hide his concerns, and did his best not to look too smug about it.

“Of course not.” The Irken declared, “Don’t be absurd, Dib-Thing! You’re-”

Dib waited for him to finish, but he seemed to refuse. Dib was…? Dib was what? He’d ask, but he knew that would only cause Zim to close away from what he was about to say even further. He loved how stupidly stubborn the other could be. The para-scientist was stubborn too and knew he’d figure it out eventually, so he opted to drop it. Dib grabbed another lady finger and dipped it in jam, before pressing it to the Irkens’ mouth.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t let Killer Klowns hurt you either.” The human answered.

Dib had leaned forward onto the table, pressing his hand against his face as he smiled warmly at the alien. Zim eyed the offered treat for a moment, before wrapping his tongue around it to eat it. The strange coil of a tongue brushed the para-scientists fingers causing him to jolt his hand back.

“Ew! Zim! Gross!” Dib said, laughing as he wiped his hand. “Someone could have seen that!”

The alien only supplied him with a devious smirk, baring those sharp zipper teeth of his and Dib found himself loving those too. Odd. Dib had officially used the word _love_ far too much to describe Zim. The human shook it from his mind. He’d rather not think about that too hard.

***

High School- 9th grade

“Back off beast creature! This is _my_ Dib!”

He felt like he could die. Here they were, right in the middle of the cafeteria, and Zim was pressing his face right into Dibs’. In front of their entire class. It was bad enough that he’s been so hand-holdy lately ever since they started their touch experiment. Now Zim was just being _completely_ up front about his declarations of owning the human as he protected him from some random bully. Were _all_ Irkens this possessive?

More importantly, why the hell did Dib _like_ it? He was sure that someone saying he belonged to them should bother him. Yet for whatever reason, it didn’t. Then again… it wasn’t just _someone _declaring it; it was Zim. Although Dib was sure he would never be able to say it out loud himself, he kind of felt the same way. Zim was _his_ too.

He found himself stalking people that got too close to him. The ones whose smiles twisted in ways that didn’t sit quite right with the para-scientist. The ones who had jumped Zim and hurt Gir in particular absolutely knew who Zim belonged to. Those hapless idiots actually tried to go to the police after what _they_ did. Dib was certain no one would believe them. They never believed him but, just in case… he made sure.

Dib knew he wasn’t doing himself any favors by feeding into his reputation as a terrifying creep. However, if dragging some stupid teenagers down a dark alleyway to “talk” was what it took to make sure that Zim would _never_ have to face the nightmare of losing his family ever again, then by all means. The para-scientist was happy to be quite the _conversationalist_. They’d keep their mouths shut about what they saw. Of that, he made sure. Because Zim was _Dibs’_ alien, and no one was allowed to hurt him.

It was cute now, how Zim was pressing himself up as close as he could to Dib. Then again, something tells him his alien might be just as serious as the human was about keeping him for himself. So Dib looked up toward the towering figure who’d grabbed his shirt and threatened to lash out at him, and grinned. Maybe it was embarrassing, sure, but _he_ was _his_. As long as they had that, they were untouchable.

***

High School- 10th grade

They had made it. Point Present, West Virginia. The home of the harbinger. Mothman. The area seemed well prepared against curious tourists. Thankfully, he and Zim weren’t here for the gift shop.

The two flew over the fences blocking off the area of his most recent sighting and were currently scoping around for traces of the red eyed beasts’ presence.

“This Mothman,” The Irken began, as he kept close, “have you ever seen him before?”

Dib flashed the woods with his light, as he traced the trees for movement.

“Once. When I was seven.” The human answered.

Mothman was Dibs’ first ever cryptid encounter. He remembered him. Towering over him as a child. Those piercing red eyes, and ashy black wings. He pointed towards the waste dump, before he vanished. Without a trace.

“He tried to warn me about the waste dump collapse.” He continued.

Eight days later, the facility had a meltdown. Landslides of garbage had crumbled and buried nearly seventeen people. Three died.

“I was too young.” The para-scientist lamented, “No one believed me.”

He felt a reassuring hand rest on his arm.

“_I_ believe you.” The Irken assured.

Maybe it didn’t count for much. Considering that, as and alien, Zim was more likely to believe anything Dib said. The para-scientist knew how much of a jerk he used to be, taking advantage of Zim’s paranoia that way. He would never do that now, of course. The Irken meant too much to him, and his reassurance was often all Dib ever needed to hear.

“Yeah, well let's hope that you do. For _your_ sake.” Dib reiterated as he focused back into the woods, “Stay vigilant, Zim.”

“Right.” The alien agreed searching along side the para-scientist.

Knowing the fabled cryptid, they wouldn’t find him so easily. Mothman was smart. Unlike your average Yetis and Bigfeets, Mothman was a whole other class of creature entirely. The beast won’t just present itself. Unless he felt like there was a threat. Dib felt a chill crawl down his spine and a presence looming behind him.

It was him.

“Is that-”

Before Zim could finish his thought, a bellowing roar caught the two investigators off guard. Dib stumbled back as he covered his ears. He looked up and there he was. With eyes of flame and wings of smoke, Mothman presented himself. In the cover of darkness, he prepared to strike. He aimed for the alien.

“Zim! Watch out!”

The red eyed beast lashed his claws, sharp as razors, toward the Irken. Dib shoved Zim away, using himself as a barrier before he was struck down by a sharp rake of talons ripping into his back.

“AUGH!!” Dib cried out, as a flash of pain tore through his skin.

“DIB!” Zim called after him, hurrying to catch the human before he hit the ground.

The Irken stabbed his pak leg toward Mothman, only to miss. The silent harbinger stalked back into the shadow of the wood. Dib was down, and the creature knew well enough that if he left he wouldn’t be followed. He was right. Zim focused on attending to Dib.

“W-wait. He’s getting away!” Dib declared, trying to jump back up.

The alien stopped him, pressing a firm hand to the others’ chest.

“You’re not going anywhere Dib! Not with a wound like this.” Zim reasoned.

“But we _found_ him, Zim.” Dib protested, still trying to bolt up, “I can’t just-”

“Your findings are no good to your species if you’re dead, idiot!” The Irken shouted at him, holding the human back with all of his force.

“But-”

“Do you want someone else taking credit for _your_ work?” He asked instead.

The was a pause, as Dib caught his breath. He already knew his answer. Mothman was _his_ cryptid to uncover for the world. The para-scientist refused to let anyone take that away from him.

“No.” He affirmed.

“Alright then. Come on, human. Let’s tend to this before it gets any worse.”

Zim helped him up as he staggered. Now that the adrenaline was dying off his back flared in a fiery wash of pain. It almost hurt to breathe. He tried to stave off his air just to fight back the pain.

“Keep breathing Dib.” The Irken urged.

He did. It hurt like hell, but he did. Zim led him to the voot cruiser. Dib was glad Zim persuaded him to use the ship instead of his car. Sure, driving out on the road was fun. Especially considering he was supposed to be _grounded_ from the car he just bought, but the voot cruiser had a ten foot force field to protect them. His car did not.

Zim placed him against the side of the ship as he rummaged inside for the supplies he’d need to patch Dibs’ wound. The para-scientist peeled off his shirt to trace the fresh injury only to find _three_ raw marks instead. He hissed from his own simple feathered touch and jerked his hand away.

“Hold on, don’t touch it, yet!” Zim demanded looking back at the human, “Let me find the antiseptic first.”

Fighting the paranormal was risky business, and marks became memories. Most of the scars Dib had were small nicks, easily hidden under his shirt. These new ones would be rather long, and he felt them from where they stretched down his shoulder blade. They snaked from the left and made jagged lines across to the right, completely covering the upper half of his back. They would scar, he was sure of that, and they would be some of his deeper ones. Dib could already feel how they puffed out and saw a harsh red forming against his pale skin.

From the corner of his eye he noticed that Zim had finally caught sight of the wound. The guilt on his face was something Dib wished he could console. He usually didn’t listen to the humans’ reasoning when it concerned his scars. It wasn’t Zims’ fault, but that didn’t stop the Irken from looking towards his back forlornly.

“Come here,” Zim commanded.

His tone was soft, and Dib couldn’t argue when he sounded like that. Dib did as he was told, and offered his wounds for the Irken to treat. The alien quickly dressed the injury, perfectly careful in his touch in a way he so rarely was with the human. Dib found his pain gently subsiding as advanced solutions were placed against his skin.

“That should stop the pain.” Zim informed him as he finished up, “Unfortunately, your skin will continue to remain marred.”

It was better than being left with lasting muscle damage and for that much, Dib was grateful.

“Thank you,” He replied, tracing his fingers along his shoulder as he felt the wrapping.

Dib’s hand brushed over Zims’ where it lingered on his shoulder. The para-scientist glanced back at him. He wore the saddest of frowns, as he traced the humans’ bandaged skin. Dib didn’t like to see Zim like this, but he never knew just what to say to reassure him. So rather than using words, the para-scientist turned around and lunged for the alien. Zim yelped at the unexpected embrace and tried to pry out of the para-scientists’ hold on him.

“Dib! Release me!” He ordered, struggling against him.

“No more pouting.” The human countered, pressing his cheek into the others head as he hugged him, “You did nothing wrong.”

“Zim does not pout.”The Irken argued as he kicked his legs, “Your slander is an outrage! Now let me go!”

“I swear to Cthulhu Zim, if you don’t stop feeling bad about about this I am going to Good Will Hunting the shit out of you, so hard.”

“But I made a mistake!” The alien criticized, “I underestimated the creature and the man of moths was able to-”

“It’s not your fault.” Dib quoted, rocking the alien back and forth as he held him to his chest, “It’s not your fault.”

“No!” Zim cried out, as he thrashed about harder, “How _dare_ you quote the Robin Williams human at me! You know how much I admire him!”

“It’s not your fault.” The para-scientist repeated, “It’s not your fault.”

The Irken fought against the reassurance with every fiber of his being until eventually he caved. Zim planted his feet back on the ground and threw his head back into the humans’ chest.

“Zim is sorry!” The Irken sobbed.

“Let it out. It’s okay. Just let it out.” The human comforted.

Dib smiled reassuringly towards the alien as he wailed. Zim wasn’t one to cry, so the para-scientist would be lying if he said it didn’t throw him off a little bit. Dib just comforted him through it. Moments like this were oddly funny. Sometimes, he could feel the weight of how uncomfortable he made people, and it made his thoughts go to some pretty dark places. Places a little voice in the back of his head told him he deserved to go.

However those places couldn’t reach him when he thought of the people that mattered. Like Gaz. She wanted him here. She needed him. Along with someone else. Another hiccuped sob caught his attention, and Dib looked down. He watched as Zim turned and buried himself into his chest.

He pressed the Irkens’ head closer to him, cupping his other hand into Zims’ back. Dib held onto him, tasting the salt of his own tears through the cracks of his smile. The human couldn’t help but smile.

“Thank you,” He whispered.

“F-for what?” Zim choked out.

Dib hadn’t expected the other to hear him. Again, he was bad with words, but as long as he blurted it out maybe it wouldn’t matter how stupid it sounded when he said it out loud. Dib held onto the alien as close as he could.

“For letting me know that you care. I… Zim I love you. So much.”

He felt the other stiffen in his arms so he added,

“Y-you know. Like, as a friend.”

Dib was sure he felt more than that, but it was strange for him too. He was nervous and he didn’t want to push things further, not yet. Dib just needed him to know. He could feel Zim relax, and as he did the human breathed a sigh of relief. He really wasn’t ready for that kind of change either.

“That is… alright?” The Irken asked.

Dib nodded. If anyone said it was wrong to love a friend, then that was just another unconventional standard to their friendship. By this point, they were rather used to that.

“Okay,” He said.

Dib waited on baited breath, but Zim didn’t say it back. He couldn’t help the hurt that brought. Should he have waited, then? Or just not have said anything at all? The human was jolted out of his disappointment by Zim butting his head against his chest. Was that the Irkens’ way of saying it back?

Dib took a hold of the stalks of Zims’ antennae, brushing them gently between his fingers. He heard the alien sigh, as happy sounds of pleasantry purred out of him. It made Dib happy himself as he listened.

“I do too.”

It was so faint Dib almost didn’t hear it, and he continued to lovingly caress his friend as if he hadn’t. Whatever he was given. Dib would take it.

***

High School- 11th grade

“Zim you’re making a mess!” Dib criticized as he shoved the Irken away.

The aliens’ house had been made into more of a disaster than he’d intended. Dib expected a fuss from Gir. However it was _Zim_ who was making this so difficult, which threw the human in for a surprise.

“Surely the cake can be made without _all_ of this batter, right?” The alien tried to reason, as he stuck his fingers back into the mixing bowl.

“I am _trying_ to make you a _double_ layered caked for your Hatchday! So _stop_\- _eating_\- all the- _damned_\- batter!” The human commanded as he smacked at Zims’ hands.

“But _Diiiib_! I want chocolate!” The once hostile invader, pouted.

“You’ll _get_ your chocolate when I’m done. Until then,” he began before noticing Zim trying to sneak away with yet _another_ glob of batter.

Dib was having none of it and grabbed his hand, surprising the not so stealthy Irken. He took a hold of Zims’ batter coated finger and with a smirk, dragged it into his mouth. Using his tongue, Dib cleaned the chocolate away for himself before he pulled the digit out with a pop.

“no more cake batter for you.”

The blush that broke out on Zims’ face was priceless, and Dib savored the shade.

“U-unsanitary!” The Irken cried out as he wiped off his finger.

Served him right. Dib could only laugh.

***

High School- 12th grade

Zim talked in his sleep. Dib couldn’t help himself from listening in as he held onto the alien from the couch. It felt like heaven being able to hold him every night. His skin was so soft and cool, and perfectly balanced out his own heat. The human could listen to him talk for hours, and best of all it was all in Irken. That made it so much more real and personal.

A hidden secret not meant for anyone else but him. It almost made the para-scientist giddy at the prospect of it. Dib had learned so much about Zim this way. It was how he learned of his favorite soda flavors, his favorite songs, his weird lingering fear of bees and so much more. Tiny harmless things like that that made the humans’ heart do flips, as he marveled at how cute his alien could be. Dib watched him shift uncomfortably about in his sleep, and placed a soothing hand against Zims’ shoulder.

That seemed to settle him down, as it usually did, and the happy sigh the other released had the para-scientist smiling like an idiot.

“[Gir not raisins! I said… pomegranates. Those are… the good ones.]”

“Pomegranates, huh?” Dib noted, “I’ll have to remember that.”

“[Zim… cannot handle these in… sufferable boys entering his yard! _Diiiib_! We need more… milkshakes. Or they’ll… never leave…]”

Dib laughed quietly to himself as he gently caressed a singular antenna.

“Whatever you say, space boy.” He answered, as he watched the Irken dream.

It was getting late, and he was starting to grow tired. Dib found himself getting more sleep these days. However before he let himself close his eyes completely, he had to finish his nightly routine. He waited until Zim was completely settled before he moved closer, his lips nearly brushing against the aliens’ antennae. Dibs’ vocal cords struggled with Irken, not quite developed to pronounce the proper clicks for the dialect, but through hours of practice he did manage to perfect at least one phrase.

“[I love you, Zim.]”

Dib wasn’t sure if he was pronouncing it right. He didn’t even know if Zim would recognize the word if he actually said it to him. Dib had spent hours searching for it, and couldn’t find the word “love” once. It didn’t exist in the context Dib had needed it to, but he didn’t care. If that was the case, he’d just create the word himself. So that’s what he did, and he spent hours digging through every last scrap of reference he could find to create the proper phonic.

It took Dib nearly a week, but he managed to do it. The word was rough, and maybe when created by a human didn’t sound the way an actual Irken might pronounce it, but that hardly mattered. Dib could tell Zim that he loved him. That’s all he cared about, and someday Dib would tell him when the alien could hear him. Until then, he fell asleep with a blissful smile on his face. He was fine with just this.

Whatever he was given.

***

The present-

Memories. Sweet and sad. Bitter and peaceful. They all came crashing to the surface. Dib spent nearly every night reminiscing on the life that Zim had given him. The good things he had. He remembered everything.

“[So just… go to prom with me…]”

Including that night. Dib held onto his alien, still as caring and reassuring as ever. It was okay that Zim wasn’t in love with Dib like he was with him. This was enough.

“[I love you.]”

As always, Dib would take what he was given.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay- my internet was down for nearly a week and that gave me time to really bunker down and write. Currently working on the final chapter right now but I'll be taking my time with it. I want to give this story my best effort. Much love <3


	20. The Prom

High School- 12th grade

Dib laughed at him awkwardly, as Zim knew he would.

“Come on Zim. It’ll be dumb. It’s just an overstuffed sweaty gym filled with the last group of people you’d want to be stuck with for two hours. Seriously, you _don’t_ want to go.”

The alien was on top of the couch, determined as he stood eye level with the para-scientist.

“But I-I do.” He assured, hoping he sounded convincing, “This will be my final year of pretending to be a human teen. And as such, my only chance to observe the prom ritual first hand. It’s very important that I participate. Therefore, I require a… partner.”

Honestly, Zim had learned everything he could want to know about prom. He’d studied it easily enough from the internet. The Irken already understood the tradition. He didn’t actually want to go, and everything Dib had said only made him want to go less. However, this wasn’t about some stupid Earth ritual. This was about Dib.

Dib was in love with him. It terrified Zim. How could the human change their relationship, and so naturally as well!? Everything was happening so fast and Zim had no idea what he was supposed to do. They used to hate each other. That, he understood.

Then to change that hate into love? Zim didn’t know how to love! Zim had never _been_ in love! Sure he _has_ loved, but no one has ever loved _him _back! So the Irken did the only thing he knew how to do in situations where his panic overwhelmed him. He ran away from it.

Every hug was pushed away and every gentle reassurance was brushed off until he was sure the human would stop. However, he never did. Zim didn’t want him to stop either and that only made things worse. Made him feel selfish. Made him feel bad. Which only caused Dib to comfort him more and start the whole cycle of doubt and confusion all over again.

He wanted to understand. Zim wanted to change. Because friendship didn’t feel like it changed anything at all and he was so much happier now that he had that with Dib, but this. This _love_. It was different. It would change everything.

What if Zim couldn’t love him correctly? What if he hurt his human trying to love him. He would never forgive himself. That’s why they had to do the prom. It was the perfect cover! If the relationship failed, and the date was less than savory, Zim could cover up his failed romantic attempts under the guise of wanting to enact a social function.

If it succeeded, as he hoped, they could have something better. Zim could change. Love his Dib perfectly, as the human deserved.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to.” Dib offered, giving him an out.

Zim took the human by his hands.

“I _want_ to.” He confirmed.

There it was. That odd lopsided smile of Dibs’ the alien was always so happy to see.

“O-okay. Yeah! Let’s do it. Let’s go! It’ll be _so_ stupid. We’ll just uh, watch a bunch of people who don’t know how to dance try and be sexy.” Dib elaborated, scoffing at the images in his head.

“Yes.” Zim agreed, “It will be quite the event. I’m sure we will find a way to make it worth our while.”

The only thing Zim could do now was make sure their date was perfect. A sentiment that _always_ ended well. For their sake, he hoped it would.

***

“Okay. We are _not_ fucking around Zim.” Gaz noted as the two stepped into the boutique, “If you’re gonna dress up for prom then you have to go for the _best_ _goddamn_ dress this sink hole of a town has to offer.”

“And what of the monies? Where will that be coming from?” Zim questioned, still nervous as he stood where the two had never stood before.

Gaz popped out a plastic card, with three names written on it that weren’t hers. Was that what Dib’s anagram of a name stood for? The Irken scoffed. He much preferred the name _Dib_ as opposed to _that _disgrace. Yet another sign that his human was _far_ superior to his source material. Zim was more than happy to burn that creatures money in ways that made his Dib happy.

Still, this store was exceedingly _nice_. Well, for a smelly Earth store, it was nice. There were so many colors, shapes, ruffles, and beautiful patterns, that caught his eye. The Irken was overwhelmed by sheer volume of the selection.

“Focus Zim.” Gaz called out, snapping to gain his attention, “Start with color. What color do you want?”

His answer was immediate.

“Purple.”

How telling was it that his favorite color complimented Dibs? It was nearly a single shade away from being the same. Zim liked that about the two of them. How they were different and yet, so fascinatingly similar all at once.

“Then that’s where we start. Stores like this don’t fuck around, so if we look,” Gaz scanned the store until sure enough, she found her target, “-there.”

She pinpointed a section of the store dedicated to purple and all of it’s shades and dragged the Irken straight to it. Zim found his nerves settling once the selection was narrowed down. He could never do something as stress enduring as this on his own. The alien knew he was lucky to have Gaz.

“Now that that’s done start by picking out five you like.” The human instructed.

“Only five?” He questioned, as his hands fumbled with a random silky dress.

“Normally I’d say we should go nuts,” The Membrane sister explained as she shifted through the dresses on the racks, “but this shit is hard enough without the added pressure of getting it right. So, _trust_ _me_. Narrowing it down to five at a time is gonna make this _way_ easier.”

Zim _did_ trust her, so he went with her plan. Who knew narrowing their search down would still leave _so_ _many_ dresses to choose from? He scanned between the fabrics and wondered how he should present himself? Classy and elegant, with a slim figure hugging dress? Or bold and flowy, with delicious layers that would flutter and stun the crowd while they danced? Gaz helped him make those decisions and quickly rushed him to the dressing room before his pak fried from the overload of options.

He tried the ball room dress first. A natural choice. This was essentially, a ball. Of sorts. However, he hated how long it was. It covered his feet, which wasn’t ideal. Zim already had the perfect heels for the occasion and he didn’t them hidden away.

So that was a no. The next dress was even worse. A slim dress seemed like a good idea in practice, but-

“How am I supposed to dance in this thing?”

Zim tried to walk, only to find even that a challenge as the tight dress constricted the movement of his legs. Gaz sat back in her seat, relaxing in the chair as she folded her arms.

“You’re not.”

“Doesn’t that… defeat the purpose?” Zim asked, struggling to keep himself up right.

Gaz only shrugged. Alright, so he guessed that was a no. Back to the dressing room. Zim tried on each dress, and found something frustrating about each one of them. They were too long, too tight, too loose, too frilly. None of them were right!

They placed those dresses back, and got five more. Still the same unsatisfied result. Five more. No. Five more. No! Five more. NO!

“Why is this so difficult!” The Irken grumbled as he wore the worst dress of them all.

At this point, he wasn’t even paying attention to them anymore. The one he was in was a joke of gigantic sleeves that made him look like one of those so called Disney Princesses. He had no idea why he couldn’t just pick one and be on his way. Zim threw up his hands before slumping down to the floor in a defeated sulk. Gaz stood up from her chair and hovered over him. She lightly kicked at the aliens’ shoulder from where he laid on the floor.

“Come on Zim. Get up.”

He only groaned, a miserable defeated groan.

“You’re hopeless.” She said, tapping at his shoulder again.

When he still didn’t get up, the Membrane sister walked away.

“Good. Leave Zim to his suffering.” The Irken monologued, “My mission. Over before it begins. _Again_. Is failure my fate? Am I destined to never taste the sweet, sweet, nectar of success? Longing to find the light, and yet never able to grasp it? Yes. Leave me to my wallowing, human. For it is all that I will ever know.”

“That’s nice and all Zim, but I got you a dress. You can get up now.”

The alien shot up from the floor.

“How did- but I- _wait_-”

“Yeah, so I’ve been listening to your nitpicks for about two hours now and it really wasn’t that hard to find something you’d like. Had the lady running the store Frankenstein you something that should take care of everything you wanted.”

Zim looked at the bag in question with suspicion. He snatched it out of Gaz’s hands and peeked inside. The Irkens’ eyes popped at what he saw as he glanced back and forth between Gaz and the dress until he settled on her.

“It’s perfect.” Zim said, stunned.

She smirked back at him.

“Who’s friend number two now?”

***

Tomorrow was prom. Zim was ready. He was prepared for this. He had his dress, his make up, and Dib would drive them there. Everything was set and patiently waiting for the next day. Everything except for Zim himself, who sat in torture watching the hour hand on the clock trudge away.

The fact that it was still another day away was killing him. Patience _always_ killed him. How was it not murder to have to sit still and just _wait _for things to happen. Zim didn’t understand how humans could _be_ so patient. The alien groaned internally as he and Dib sat on the couch. The two were watching Steven Universe although, Zim hardly registered the show as it played.

He couldn’t stop worrying. With so much spare time, that only left him with time to think of how everything could go wrong. What if something spilled on his outfit, and Dib thought he looked stupid and then he didn’t want to date him? What if he danced wrong, and everyone laughed at them humiliating the human and turning him back into an enemy? What if they got lost on the way to the dance and Dibs’ pathetic inferior Earth car was smashed by a semi on the road and they died? Dib would be angry at him during the humans hypothesized afterlife as a ghost and his spirit would refuse to talk to him, because he would know it was Zims’ fault that he died! What if-

Dibs’ hand against his face brought him out of his train of thought.

“Zim?”

The Irken turned to find a concerned human looking him over.

“Are you okay? You seem a little… nervous.” He guessed.

A correct assessment.

“I’m fine. I just-”

“_He can’t know that I’m… _afraid_. Think of something to say! Quickly!_” The alien thought as he constructed his next words carefully.

“I was just wondering, about-”

Zim looked towards the t.v. and noticed Dibs’ favorite character on screen.

“… your thoughts on the Ronaldo character?”

His humans eyes lit up. The Irken understood the hell he just wroth on himself, and knew he was at the humans’ mercy now.

“Oh. My. _God_. I don’t even know how to begin. I mean, just- _why_ does _everybody_ hate him so much? Look- if someone came up to _me _looking like a threat to the Earth I would do the same damn thing! _You_ of all people know that! I don’t even _have_ to tell you.”

Zim nodded. This was true.

“He told Steven about the sneaple. And _what_ does that little brat do?”

“He dre-” The Irken tried.

“He dresses up like a goddamned sneaple!” Dib interrupted, as he continued his rant, “I can’t believe how many people whine and say, _“Steven’s just a kid! He doesn’t know any better.”_! Kid. My. Ass. That fucker is _thirteen_ years old at the start of the series! He should _know_ better than to mess with a conspiracy theorist like that! I mean- not _all_ of us are as passionate as Ronaldo but-”

This would go on for hours. This topic was always a _long_ conversation, but the Irken didn’t mind. Seeing Dib like this… made Zim happy. Were they already doing it then? Was _this_ love? The Irken wasn’t sure.

He supposed he’d get his answer tomorrow.

***

Zim knew he said _seven_. He’d even stressed for Dib to be ready by seven, but _seven_ wasn’t a realistically approachable time where eyeliner was involved! Why did it always seem to fight him? At the worst time!

“No! Stop being wider than the other side.” The alien demanded, as he leaned in towards the mirror, “What are you doing? I’m going to look like an Earth trash panda!”

He heard a knock at the door. It was the second time since about five minutes ago.

“Zim? Are you about ready? It’s-”

“Yes I know it’s seven! Just-” The Irken stopped himself.

He took a relaxing breath, and then let it out.

“Just wait. You always inform Zim of this patience of yours. Now it is _your_ turn.”

“_Okay_, but you’re not allowed to get mad at me if we miss any “important rituals” or whatever it was you needed to research at prom.”

“Dully noted.” The Irken remarked as he applied his mascara.

With one final stroke of the brush, his make up was finished. Bold and striking yet simple. No lipstick tonight. Zim heard that kisses could be… messy. That is to say if something like that even happens tonight. Or ever.

Wow there was a lot riding on this.

“Come on already Zim. It’s been an hour. I’m sure you look great.”

He decided not to keep him waiting any longer. Zim burst open the door and stepped out with his usual confidence.

“Behold human! I emerge from the bathing facilities, a perfectly crafted specimen of all things prom. Feel free to praise me as you bask in my glory.”

Zim stood with his hands on his hips, and silently waited for the human to speak. Just a simple affirmation that his ensemble was appropriately presentable. Gaz had managed to mix the two Earth customs of fashion together, leaving the alien with a unique mix of a black suit and ruffled light purple tux on top, with a sleek pleated black skirt on the bottom. The lavender bow tie was a nice touch, and with the Irkens’ black peep toe three inch heels he was the perfect height for Dib to hold him without bending as they danced. This was by far the best outfit Earth had ever put together in Zims’ opinion. Though _his_ approval of it hardly mattered. That was up for _Dib_ to decide.

However that affirmation never came. The Irken cracked open an eye, only to see the human staring at him with pure awe. Dib himself looked sharply clean cut in his sleek black suit and dark blue tie. It did his frame every favor in the aliens’ eyes and he couldn’t get enough of it. It took Zims’ breath away in ways he couldn’t describe. The Irkens’ face cooled with a wash of violet, as his confidence forgot him.

“Wow. You look beautiful, Zim.”

Why did hearing that make the alien blush worse?!

“I-I…”

“_Go on. Return the compliment!_” Zim urged himself.

Forming words was so difficult with his tongue weighed down by nerves. Zim had never felt like this before. The alien knew he had to say something, though. So he just let his thoughts tumble out of him.

“Sexy Dib.”

The humans’ face flushed harder.

“W-what?”

Sexy meant attractive too, right? Was that not the right word? He’d have to look that up later. Zim willed his nerves away and shook his head.

“Handsome!I meant _handsome_. You are very handsome, Dib.”

Oh no. Did he already ruin their date? Why was he so nervous? Zim was never nervous! He always did what he wanted and worried about the consequences later. This was the first time he cared about getting it right the first time around. That put so much pressure on things and pressure eluded to failure and-

Zim found Dibs’ hands gently cradling his face.

“It’s okay. If this is too much you don’t have to do this.”

There Dib was, making Zim feel safe and cared for. Loved… No. Zim_had_ to.

“We are _doing_ this.” The Irken declared, prying the humans’ hand off of his cheek to take a hold of it in his own, “We look exquisite and the night is a child!”

“That’s young-”

“Onward Dib! To victory!” Zim proclaimed, boldly pointing toward the door.

The alien didn’t wait for any further doubts to surface as he led the two of them to Dib’s car. Soon enough they entered the primitive transportation, had strapped on the vehicles’ safety harnesses and were off to the prom. All while Zim kept his screaming panic to the inside of his mind. Everything was going according to plan.

***

The night time highway streaked by, jutting out flashes of color against the darkness. Their car ride was left to relative silence for a while. Every time Zim glanced at the human, he found the other already looking towards him. He looked away just as the alien would catch his glance. This back and forth happened at least three times before Zim couldn’t take it any longer.

“MUSIC!” He shouted, before snatching Dibs’ mp3 player from the cup holder.

Zim switched on the device and randomly selected a song. The silence was finally broken by Bone UKs’ Pretty Waste. It blared through the speakers causing the tiny car to rumble and shake from the bass. Zim looked up towards the human and watched his shoulders drop as they released their tension and relaxed. The music seeped through the Irkens’ bones and almost made him forget his own worries as well. None of this was all that new, right?

How many times had the two of them gone on a drive just to hang out and listen to music on the road? They’d done this before. He watched as Dib nodded his head to the music, and the alien joined right along. This was fun. The para-scientist mouthed the lyrics, the song was still new to him so he wasn’t quite ready to belt out to this one _just_ yet, and Zim loved the way his hand bobbed in rhythm to the words. He was so into it, and his energy made it that much more fun.

Once that song was over the next song to play had sparked with the both of them from it’s familiar opening, and the two just _had_ to sing along.

“_Who is this irresistible creature who has an insatiable love for the dead?_” Dib asked along side the music.

“_Living. __D__ead girl._” Zim answered.

The volume was cranked up as the two thrashed about in the car. The prom had music. Zim liked music. Dib liked music. As long as that was the case, neither of them had any thing to worry about.

***

“_-__and I was like, baby, baby, baby, oh. Like, baby, baby, baby, no-_”

Zim did not like this music. It was loud enough that the two of them could hear it from the car once they’d parked. He was back to being nervous again. Now that they were here. The Irken tapped his fingers together, unsure of what to do with himself. He reached for the door, only for the human to stop him.

“Wait! Hold on! I got it.” Dib said as he bolted out of the car.

The human raced towards the Irkens’ door and opened it for him. Scrunching his face with disgust, Zim shut it back.

“Uh Zim? What are you doing?” Dib asked from the other side.

“You are my date. Not my _slave_.” The alien assessed, annoyed.

They were equals. Zim refused for Dib to treat himself as any less. The human sighed.

“It’s an Earth custom, Zim. I’m trying to be a gentleman.”

“There is no need for you to prove your gentlemanliness. I already know you possess this.” The Irken assured with a wave of his hand as he open the door himself.

“Alright, then. If you say so.” Dib accepted, offering his hands to help Zim out of the car anyway.

Zim could accept his assistance, as long as it didn’t feel like servitude. Dib took the aliens’ hand, and before Zim could add anything else he felt the others’ large fingers intertwine with his own. His spooch felt like it could burst.

“Let’s go, before they spike the punch.”

Spiking. Punching. Zim acknowledged these as words from somewhere in his mind, though his thoughts at the moment were preoccupied by other things. Like, would Dib think it was weird if he called him his Tallest? Because. Big. Dib was big, and Zim _liked_. He liked a _lot_.

He only noticed that Dib had pinned something to his tux once that hand had disappeared.

“There.”

Zim looked down to find a blue flower pinned to his chest. Right the corsage. The Irken heels clacked back to the car to fish out the one he got for Dib. He slammed the door, and only just now realized that three inch heals were not made for booking it as he made his way back to his date.

“I didn’t forget!” He declared as he pried it from his plastic container.

Zim discarded the plastic onto the ground and was met with a disapproving look from Dib. Right. The environment. Steadying himself on his heels he took up the plastic from the grass and disposed of it more properly in a nearby recycling bin before once again making his way to Dib.

“_Heels, do not betray your master._” The Irken warned in his thoughts.

He made it safely enough and presented his own purple flower to Dib.

“Here. For you.” Zim remarked, huffing from the exertion as he tried to maintain his air of confidence.

He held it out only for Dib to stare at him. Did he not like the color? Should he have chosen the same color as Dib had? Of course! Why would the human want _his_ favorite color?! So selfish! Stupid!

“Are you… gonna pin it on?” The para-scientist asked, looking at him inquisitively.

“Oh,”

He was only waiting for Zim to pin the flower.

“I knew that.” He said, as he did just that.

The flower he presented to Dib sat over the humans heart organ. The flower Zim was presented with rested over his spooch. Almost like a vow. The Irken looked between the two of them as he appreciated the sentiment.

“See, now we match!” The para-scientist pointed out.

“Good.” Zim remarked as he wrapped his arms around Dib, “Everyone should know that you’re _my_ human, after all.”

His human laughed, as he took just as firm of a hold on him.

“And you’re _my_ alien.”

It was rare when the human made such declarations. Zim always cherished it when he did. He let go of the para-scientists’ waist and took his hand insteadas the two walked to the gym together.

“This is it.” Dib declared as they stepped inside, “Once we step across the hall to the other side and open _those_ doors, we’ll be at the dance.”

The Irken proudly scoffed.

“Zim is more than ready.”

A lie for sure, but they were already here. His Dib looked gorgeous and Zim was ready to show him off. They crossed the threshold and opened the doors to the other side.

“_-__cause I ain’t no hollaback girl, I ain’t no hollaback girl-_”

The room turned to stare at the pair as they entered. Most of them seemed disinterested. Some glared. A few were laughing. Zim was quick to pay them no mind. This wasn’t _their_ special night after all.

“So…” Dib began, twining his fingers between the aliens’, “you wanna go get some snacks?”

Zim didn’t need to be asked twice.

***

It had been nearly forty minutes since the two of them had arrived. With not a single dance shared between them. Zim knew that the dancing was the most important part. It was just these songs. These songs. They were all so horrible.

Every time Zim worked up the nerve to ask Dib to the dance floor, the worst of songs would play. Zim had had enough of the apple bottom jeans, babies, and the dreaded cha cha real smooths. He needed a _real_ song to dance to. Not some cheap forgettable number. Whatever they danced to tonight would be important. It would have to be something he could call theirs.

As the night grew later and later, Zim worried that he’d miss his chance. What if they weren’t able to dance? How would he ever know if he loved Dib then?

“Hey Zim?”

The Irken looked up at the human, whose content smile put the alien at ease.

“Thanks for convincing me to come out here tonight. This has been fun.” He said, as he watched the people dance.

Zim felt his worries subside, as he admired the glow of the humans golden eyes.

“Yes. I agree.”

“Hanging out together. Just being with you. I wanna do this all the time.”

Zim was sure Dib wasn’t talking about the prom.

“So do I.”

He meant it, too. Zim always wanted to be with Dib.

“Hey, why don’t we dance?” The para-scientist suggested, offering his hand to the alien.

He startled back from Dib. No! They couldn’t dance to _this_! This song about cyclones was hardly a memorable enough song. It needed to be perfect!

“Bu- but this song! It’s terrible!” Zim argued.

“Who cares?” Dib declared, laughing as he led the Irken to the dance floor, “_All_ of these songs suck. I just wanna dance with you!”

Zim felt his spooch hammer about in his chest, as he accepted the offered hand.

“Okay,”

Dib led them to the dance floor. Zim buzzed with excitement with each step. That was, until he felt a pair of arms snatch him from the ground.

“What the hell? Let him go asshole!”

Dib earned a swift strike to his glasses cracking them as he tried to pry off the hands grabbing the Irken. A few familiar faces stood out from the crowd that were dragging them both out of the gym. Faces that Zim recognized. He’s dealt with these lot before, and oddly enough _knew_ that most of them had graduated last year. How did they even get in here? Did they have nothing better to do with their lives aside from harassing him?!

Dib and Zim were both shoved out of the gym and locked out.

“Are you serious!? Must these _stupid_ humans act so… childishly!” Zim declared, tearing at his wig, “Where are the teacher units!? Urgh! Let us back in, _r__ight now_! Face me you _cowards_!”

Zim banged on the door, but to no avail. The group was more than happy to mock him as they flipped him off from the safety of thick iron doors. Oh, they thought he couldn’t _get_ to them? As one of his legs edged its way out of his pak, Dib was quick to push it back in.

“Don’t Zim.” Dib warned, “It’s not worth exposing yourself over.”

Zim was nearly hyperventilating as adrenaline coursed through his veins. The jerks left the window satisfied with themselves as they went back to the prom, more than likely rushing off to pour vodka into the fruit punch. Zim clutched his head in his hands.

“Hey, don’t even worry about this.” The human comforted, “Soon we’ll never have to see any of these people ever again so just… it’s going to be okay.”

He failed. Again. How could Dib be so consoling of him?

“Let’s just go home. It’s not that late. We could marathon all the Toy Story movies together. That sounds fun, right?”

Those were _his_ favorite movies. Why was Dib trying to make _him_ feel better? Dib was the one who’d been let down tonight.

“Come on.”

Distantly from the closed doors, Zim could make out a song. It played just loud enough for them to hear it from here. At this point he was ready to dance to anything. The Irken removed his wig and lenses. He would make this work. He had to.

“Zim, your disguise-”

The Irken wrapped himself around the human.

“_Put your head on my, shoulders-_”

“Zim?”

“Dance with me.” The alien commanded, before taking it back with a question, “Won’t you?”

The human approached the subject cautiously, and Zim knew it was because he feared the alien might change his mind. He was coming to regret how much hes’ made the para-scientist be wary of him.

“Yeah.” He accepted nervously, “Yeah, okay.”

He felt Dib slowly place his hands against his head, and they swayed. Their dancing was stiff and awkward. Both of them were nervous and the human was beginning to crush his head with how tight he was holding it. Zim took Dibs’ hands and guided them lower.

“-_j__ust a kiss goodnight, maybe, __y__ou and I will fall in love._”

“Um- u-uh,”

Dib gripped him, a little unsure at first, but the way his hands melted into the aliens’ hips was so satisfying once he let himself relax. Zim reached his arms up to cradle them behind Dib’s neck, pulling him closer. He watched as the humans’ anxieties and fears faded away until the only thing reflected in those eyes was love. Mesmerizing, calming, addictive, love. He reached his hands up further, his fingers achingly reaching for the humans’ dark, downy hair. Then Dib did the same to Zim, as if making him feel so blissful and adored was necessary for himself.

“This is nice.” Dib admitted in the intimate space.

Zim opened his eyes, unaware he’d even closed them, to find Dib so much closer than he had anticipated. He watched as the human above him focused on showering him with all of his affection. He studied the soft way that he smiled and the golden glow of his eyes. Dib was beautiful, and in this single solitary space, Zim felt like he could finally understand how easy it was to change.

“It is,” The alien accepted.

“-_whisper in my ear, baby. Words I want to hear, tell me. Tell me that you love me too-_”

Zim leaned in closer. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but as he stared at Dibs’ lips something urged him to get closer. As he tried to close the gap between them, Dib turned his head away as something caught his attention for a brief moment. Zim missed, brushing his lips against Dibs’ cheek instead. The humans’ eyes widened, and he could hear his breath hitch.

“...Zim?”

The Irken stared past Dib with wide horrified eyes as panic overtook him.

“THIS WAS A MISTAKE!” He blurted out, as he pushed the human away.

Zim clamped his mouth. That wasn’t what he meant. He had to explain himself! He needed to let him know. He… Zim watched the light in Dibs’ eyes fade.

“Oh,”

That one word. That single utterance. Hurt so much to hear. He smiled at him.

“That’s okay.” Dibs’ voice shook as he spoke, “I understand. You don’t need to feel the same. This… this is enough for me. I’ll take whatever-”

“End the sequence! Computer STOP!” Zim bellowed out.

The memory was stopped as the halo chambers display glitched out and faded away.

***

The present-

“_Memory sequence canceled. F__our hours __remain__ until pak hibernation __is __complete._”

Why did he keep doing this to himself? It’s been three months since that night. Zim felt the human pull him closer to himself as he slept, and the guilt swallowed him alive. Oh… that’s why. How could Dib still give him so much, and why did the Irken just take? All over what, a simple nervous blurting?

Surely he was better than that, right? Oh… but what did it matter? After seeing the look on Dibs’ face as he spat _those_ words. How could he ever attempt to make it right without hurting him all over again? Dib gave him his trust, his friendship, his love. Dib told him he would take what he was given.

Why couldn’t _he_ do the same?

“Computer. Present the live feed.” Zim commanded.

“_Live __security __footage, activated._”

He sighed. It would be another four hours until his pak reactivated from hibernation. Zim didn’t mean to have his pak shut down like this. He couldn’t help it when he felt so safe. Yet another reason for the Irken to feel like a disgrace. How could anyone love him?

“[I love you.]”

Was that… Irken? Who said that? Zim shook his head. Who else. Although, _h__ow_ had he learned that word? Zim didn’t remember ever teaching him that.

He needed to hear it again.

“Computer.” Zim directed, “Scan for the phrase, “[I love you.]””

“_Scanning. Phrase found. __Recorded from one source. Subject Dib Membrane. __Phrase recorded one hundred and seventy three times._”

“O-one hundred…” The Irken stuttered, stunned beyond words.

Zim calmed himself. He needed to see it first hand.

“Computer. Set up the halo chamber.”

“_Redistributing halo chamber._”

In a holographic space, Zim stood surrounded by dozens of recordings. He watched as various clips of footage showcased the human, telling him he loved him. As he tucked him in at night, as he carried him away from his desk to bed, as he kept watch over him while he recharged. The Irken watched them all, and felt something within himself awaken.

“_Would you like to delete one hundred and seventy three files?_” His paks internal registry asked.

“No!” He declared, quickly swiping the cancel key, “...never.”

With that, he had his answer. He never wanted to forget this feeling. He needed it and looking back through all of their years spent together, it seemed the alien wasn’t the only one. Dib had waited long enough. Zim wanted to give back what he had taken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... this is it. The next chapter will be our last. Give me your best condolences as I fight through the nervous strain of writer's block that's trying to strangle me. It's a hefty boi, and the only thing I can hope for is that it satisfies well enough. Much love guys. <3


	21. Boy, That Escalated Quickly

The present-

Dib climbed out of bed, careful not to disturb Zim. He stood back and watched as the Irken curled further into the sheets. Zim looked so peaceful like this. Best to let him dream. Dib knew how to operate the ship on his own and the alien needed a break. He rubbed at the back of his neck, and rolled out a crick threatening to form when he noticed something sharp pricking into his skin.

Curious fingers dug around until they found a stray black feather and plucked it out. He turned it over in his hand, studying the plume. Odd. No matter how much Dib searched the bed he never seemed to find more. Back on Earth he just assumed it was from all his patrolling in the woods, though now that they were popping up in the dead of space he guessed maybe not? Where did they keep coming from?

“There’s coffee. Just made it.” Gaz called out from her room.

She leaned against the door, blowing into her cup as she sipped her caffeine. Oh, good. He was just about to brew himself some. The feather was discarded as he made his way to the kitchen. Or rather, the space between their rooms and the cockpit they had decided was a kitchen. It was close enough.

“Thanks,” He said as he poured himself some. “Where’s Gir?”

His sister thumbed the nearest window and sure enough, the robot was propelling himself about in open space.

“Uh, we _do_ have another fire extinguisher, right?” Dib questioned as he watched him.

Gaz grunted an, “I don’t know.” as she shrugged.

“Guess we’ll figure something out we come to that.” The para-scientist accepted as he headed towards the cockpit.

He adjusted some of the settings as he shut off the auto pilot. After a fresh sip of his coffee, Dib set his mp3 player up to play some music. He relaxed into his seat as Hair Match began to play. Dib was still groggy and could appreciate the soft guitar so early into his day. He mouthed along the words as he checked the fuel gauges and tapped his fingers against the wheel as he checked their star map. Their ship was headed towards the closest galaxy and it would be another hour before their next planet.

Gaz was painting a portrait of the last galaxy they visited, Gir was playing outside the ship, and Zim was resting in the back. Dib had everything he could ever want, right here. It was another good day. He heard footsteps making their way to him. The soft tink of claws tapping along the metal floor gave it away as Zim. He was up already?

Dib was hoping to let him sleep in. Zim did enough as it was and he wanted to give the alien a break. Even still, it was always nice to see his alien. Dib turned to face him.

“Hey Zim I didn’t think you’d-”

Zim pulled Dib towards him by his shirt and shut him up with a kiss. The para-scientist froze. He pulled away with a dark flush of violet after stealing the humans’ breath away. Dib tried to form words, he really did, but his brain completely shut down on him.

“That was my mistake. I missed.” Zim said into the dead air.

He could feel Zim pull back, and even if Dib couldn’t speak right now he sure as hell wasn’t about to let go. He wrapped the alien into his arms as he continued to blankly space out.

“Dib…?” The Irken tapped at his glasses, “Um Gaz-Sister, your brother isn’t responding. Is this… normal?”

Wow, talking was kind of hard right now. Zim just kissed him. He sure did smell nice this morning, didn’t he? Zim just kissed him. Were all of Dibs’ shirts that big on him? Zim just kissed him.

“I think you broke him.” His sister commented from behind the two.

“Eh!” Zim turned to face her, “Humans can _break_ from failed romantic attempts? Why didn’t you tell me this!?” The Irken jerked back around and grabbed Dibs’ face, “Please don’t be broken! I had meant to _fix_ this! Not make things worse! Dib? Dib!”

Zim shook his head as he tried to will Dib out of his shocked stupor. Something in the human finally registered what had happened, and slowly ever so slowly he began to smile. Zim just kissed him, and Dib was about to kiss him again. He took a hold of the aliens’ arms and dove in for another kiss. The para-scientist poured everything he had into it and melted when he felt the Irken kissing him back. Zim pulled his face closer and Dib couldn’t get enough of him.

“Finally,” Gaz commented as she sipped her morning brew.

A sudden crash jolted the ship, causing the three on board to be flung across the left of the ship. Zim and Dib were piled on top of one another as gravity made other plans.

“What the hell- ah shit! I just _washed_ this shirt!” The Membrane sister complained as she fumbled with her coffee soaked shirt.

Dib pulled himself off of Zim as he looked towards the window.

“I don’t think that was Gir.” The para-scientist said as he shot up from the floor.

He helped Zim up and the two of them hurried back towards the controls.

“That force was ballistic. We’ve just been hit with open fire.” Zim remarked as he checked the shields.

“What are we at right now?” Dib questioned.

“Seventy percent. We can manage if we’re hit again, but this vessel wasn’t built for combat. All we have is a singular cannon for defense.” The Irken elaborated, before coming to a realization, “Gir!”

“On it,” Gaz commented, slamming a button to reel the hyperactive robot back inside.

As Gir was brought back in, he hopped about excitedly.

“Everybody's fighting!” He exclaimed, before trotting over to the cockpit.

Zim patted the robots head as he fumbled about with the console and assessed their situation. Dib looked back towards Gir.

“_Who’s_ fighting?” He asked.

A transmission fuzzed before them, giving the para-scientist his answer.

“[You have illegally entered Irken territory. All members of the Resisty are ordered to surrender and die.]” An Irken soldier informed them casually.

The soldier seemed to notice who he’d gotten a hold of however, and was quick to do a double take.

“[Oh no. By Irk. It’s Zim!]”

He fumbled frantically with his console and suddenly the line had cut out. They were being transferred.

“Dib, cut the transmission!” Zim was quick to order.

The para-scientist tried but was too late. They had been patched through to the Tallest.

“-Yeah! Look at them go!” Red cheered.

“Take that you slimy little-” Purple began before he saw the four of them.

Everyone in the cockpit froze as the Tallest took notice of the transmission.

“Are. You. _Kidding __M__e_!?” Purple spat as he slammed his fists against the console.

Red leaned toward the screen.

“What are you doing off Earth?!” The tyrant questioned, “You had your orders Zim!”

“Funny thing about defection, _my_ _Tallest_,” He said, addressing the title with sarcastic spite, “it tends to exclude you from the orders of your former leaders.”

“_Former leaders_?” Purple repeated skeptically, “You can’t just decide that! Even if we banish you from the Empire, you still _belong_ to the Empire Zim.”

“Fuck off Purple!” Zim shouted at the projection.

His former Tallest jolted back with an offended hand to his chest. He didn’t seem to expect that reaction.

“What is a “fuck off”?” He asked, not understanding the phrase.

“It’s _you_ idiot.” Gaz threw out, crossing her arms as she glared the tyrant down.

“Hey!” The Irken dictator protested.

“Regardless,” Red interrupted, “We’ve already warned you about interfering with our business, Zim. Don’t expect this treason to go unpunished. You and those creatures aboard with you are under arrest.”

“Aww!” The other interjected, “Why not just blast them? He’s so annoying. And _small_.”

Zim stood to his feet, both hands to the dashboard as he gave the other a challenging look. Purple balked at the sudden rise in height.

“Oh great! And he’s _taller_ now too!?”

“Mark down his coordinates.” The other dictator ordered, “I want that traitor apprehended, _now_.”

“You wanna bring him _here_?” Purple protested.

“I want his head,” Red explained, “and I want to do the honors of dismembering it _personally_.”

Dib could see one of the Irken specialists at their console board punching in the numbers. Like _hell_ they were taking Zim. The para-scientist shoved him away.

“What are you?- Dib NO!”

“Dib!”

“Not Mary!”

Dib pressed his hands to his chest as he felt a strange sensation course through him. He was beginning to fade away. Dib looked towards his family.

“Keep each other safe. I love all of-”

He was cut off as he was transported away.

***

Dib found himself surrounded. That was a dreadfully uncomfortable feeling when you were in your underwear. The soldiers surrounding him seemed confused. It was at least _something_ of an opening. The para-scientist had been given _less_ to work with before. He could make the most of this.

Dib punched the nearest guard and stole his gun.

“_Book it, book it, book it!_” The human thought as he was chased by open fire down the hallway.

“What is _that_?” Red asked as he watched the human go from his monitor.

“Who cares?” Purple declared as he shoved past the other, “Shoot it! _Shoot it_!”

“How is that human thing so fast?” The other questioned.

Dib could see a slot close by. He’s studied blueprints of the Massive before. That was still a mail slot, right? Because if that was a trash slot he might as well let them shoot them now.

“_Please let me be right…_”

“Ah, _come_ on! Who taught you people how to shoot? I mean it’s _right_ _there_ just shoot it!” Red criticized from the speaker system.

One of the guards stopped his pursuit as he looked towards the security camera.

“[Uh, you did sirs?]” He responded.

“Wow. Rude.” Purple remarked, “Can somebody throw that guy out the air lock?”

The guard was apprehended immediately.

“[W-wait! My Tallest! I didn’t mean it! No! NO!]” The guard called out as he was dragged away.

“The nerve of that guy.” The dictator huffed as he sat back in his chair.

Dib managed to reach the slot and hopped in just before he was grabbed by the ankle.

“[Stop!]” The guard latching onto him ordered.

“Why do I _always_ find myself in mortal peril _before_ breakfast.” The para-scientist questioned as he hung upside down and kicked at the guard.

“[By order of the Tallest-]”

“This is gonna hurt.” Dib warned more or less to himself, before he shot at the guard.

The soldier let go of his leg sending the human falling down the shoot. Dib screamed as he was left to slide to somewhere unknown.

***

“It’s down _where_?” Red questioned, boiling over with frustration.

“[That’s just it sirs, no one knows. It could be anywhere!]” One of the guards answered from off screen.

Zim gripped the dashboard, ice in his veins, but his hope restored. Dib was alive. For now.

“Well, go _find_ it!” Purple ordered, “I don’t want that _thing_ touching _our_ things! Got it?”

“[Yes sirs!]” The soldier answered.

“As for you!” Red redirected, turning to Zim, “Don’t think that sending that human creature in your place is a serviceable replacement. After we deal with it, we’ll be coming for _you_.”

“If you lay so much as a _hand_ on Dib I swear by the stars-” Zim growled.

“What are _you_ gonna do, huh? Huh!” Purple teased, laughing at the former soldier.

“Zim, if you’re even capable of _anything_ at all, we would _love_ to see you try.” Red added with a cruel smirk before the transmission was cut off.

Fuming and absolutely livid, Zim prepared the hyper-drive.

“Where are we going?” Gaz questioned, taking her brothers seat beside Zim.

“They have _our_ Dib, Gaz. If we want to get him back, we’ll need an army.” The alien reasoned, “So it seems that we’ll be lending the Resisty our assistance.”

“Woo-Hoo!” Gir cheered from the Irkens’ shoulder. “We’re gonna rescue Mary and drink blue milk! I _love_ that movie.”

The trio made the jump and Zim could only hope this would work.

***

Mail was _supposed_ to make for a soft landing. Why was Irken mail so sharp and pointy? Well it was soft enough for him to survive a twenty story fall at least. Thankfully, Dib had been correct in his assessment, and was safely hidden in the mail room. Well, not _entirely_ safely. There were still guards in the surrounding area, but at least now he wasn’t being swarmed by them.

Dib did his best to clear a path as he made his exit. It would only be a matter of time before the ship pinpointed his exact location, so movement was key. The goal; survival. Okay. That was easy enough. Just _don’t_ die.

Dib had gotten pretty good at avoiding that over the years. As long as he didn’t die he was sure he’d make it out of this alive. Sure, that didn’t exactly make any _sense_, but the para-scientists’ lived by that vow ever since he started this whole, “battling creatures who were stronger, faster, and smarter than him” thing. He’s got this. Dib knew what he was doing even if he had absolutely _no_ idea what he was doing.

As he made his way down the twisting corridors he felt his vision haze. Did he injure himself from the fall? No, he didn’t remember getting hurt, not in anyway that could be affecting him like this. Still it was difficult to see and yet, Dib didn’t feel lost. He felt surrounded by the burning scent of cleaning solutions and disinfectant that Zims’ lab used to carry. That Zim used to carry.

While he didn’t smell like chemicals anymore, and Dib was sure he’d never forget that obnoxiously sweet aroma he craved, other Irkens absolutely did. It was an overpoweringly strong scent. He’d consider that maybe it was just the close proximity causing the stink, if it wasn’t for the strange shapes of red that he _could_ see in his foggy vision. Through the walls. That’s… not normal. Dib was curious even at the worst of times, but knew better than to dwell when death was on the line.

Regardless, _whatever_ was happening to him was helping him avoid the guards coming his way, and for that much Dib was grateful. The sound of soldiers rushing past him as he hid behind a stray bit of scaffolding let the human know he’d lost them, for now. Dib continued down the hall carefully sliding against the walls and keeping to the shadows as he looked for signs of cameras. It seemed like this was an older abandoned part of the ship, but he could still make out blinking red lights of live recording from overhead. As the para-scientist crossed through the hall he noticed a small entrance in the form of a peeled back panel. He could see a faint glow coming from inside it.

Dib wasn’t sure what could be in there, but it was better than lingering out in the open. He slid inside the hole, careful to mind the jagged edges of metal, as he peered inside. The room was small and the taller than average human found the space less than ideal. Dib supposed it was a standard bunker for an Irken foot soldier. The only thing inside was a tiny chair and the source of the light. A single monitor.

Maybe he could find a way to contact his ship? Let them know he was okay. If he could get it to work. Dib had no idea if the thing was even hooked up to _this_ ship, let alone if it had the ability to access _his_. Hell, figuring any of this out seemed damn near impossible. He decided to just take a moment to breathe first.

“[There you are.]”

Dib turned to greet the muzzle of a gun.

***

Zim shut down the defenses of their ship.

“Whoa Zim.” Gaz cautioned, as she grabbed at his arm, “What are you doing?”

The alien lifted his hand toward Gaz to stop her. He understood her confusion, however he knew what he was doing.

“We have to let them know that we’re not a threat.” Zim informed her, “This is the fastest way.”

The ship blared it’s warnings, letting Zim know that their ship was being aimed at. The Resisty was prepared to open fire on their ship. The halo screen flickered before them to showcase a Resisty soldier.

“[Halt Irken. Be informed that hostages will _not_ grant you ground with us. Our mercy has been insulted this way before.]” He spoke, in a language Zim at least somewhat remembered.

“[I _am_ Irken.]” Zim accepted, “[But I am no Irken of _theirs _I assure you. I wish to offer you aid.]”

“[Your jokes do not amuse us, Irken scum.]” The soldier growled, “[But I’ll let you know what would. A reason why we shouldn’t blast your ship from the stars right here and now.]”

“[I haven’t even told you my name.]” The Irken spoke, unfazed.

“[Oh? And what name should we mourn today?]” The soldier mocked.

“[Invader Zim,]” He offered.

The soldiers eyes shot up, before the transmission cut away. The ships’ alarms quieted down, as a passage aboard the mother vessel opened up for them.

“What did you say to that guy?” Gaz questioned, as Zim steered them inside.

“I was told a long time ago that I made just a horrible enough invader, to be considered a rebel instead.” He answered.

The transmission cut away to the leader of the resistance, Lard Nar, bidding him a rather welcoming smile.

“And this was the one who told me that.”

“Hey Zim, glad you could make it. You finally decided to join us?” He asked.

“I wouldn’t say join just yet,” The Irken answered, “However, I wouldn’t mind lending an _intended_ hand this time around.”

The vortian on the other end sounded off a well acquainted laugh.

“Welcome aboard The Resisty, Zim.” He greeted, “We’ve been waiting for you.”

The transmission cut just as they made their entrance aboard the ship.

“You’re gonna explain this shit to me right?” Gaz questioned.

“Eh,” Zim began with a wave of his hand, “It’ll make sense if you just go along with it.”

Gaz passed a heavy sigh from her teeth as gripped the edges of her seat. She wasn’t sure she could put up with much more of this.

“Dib had better be _alive_ when we come to save his ass,” The Membrane sister, declared, “because I’m gonna kill him myself for being an idiot!”

***

Dib stared down the barrel of the gun directed his way and he hurriedly aimed his own right back.

“[Woah, woah, woah! Take it easy!]” The Irken said, removing his firearm away from the human as he lifted his hands.

Dib kept his weapon trained on the alien, still unsure.

“[Right. You uh, probably don’t speak Irken.]” The soldier reasoned, “How hoo-man are? Nope scare.” He patted his chest, “A kindness.”

“I understand Irken.” Dib spoke, still cautious.

It didn’t matter that this Irken could understand English. Anyone in the galaxy could when universal translators were a thing. Irken paks just so happened to be built with them preinstalled, much to the para-scientists disappointment. It took Dib seven years to learn french, damn it. Cheating advanced tech.

“[Oh thank Irk!]” The tiny rotund Irken replied, placing a relieved hand upon his chest, “[I should have known. You’re _all_ he ever talks about. _Of_ _course_ he taught you Irken. Zims’ tried teaching me your language but I don’t know how he makes even _half_ of those sounds come out of his mouth. It’s all nonsense to me.]”

The para-scientist lowered his gun.

“You know Zim?” He asked. “And you _don’t_ hate him?”

“[Of course not! I’m Skoodge!]” The Irken answered, his arms opened wide as he wore a smile.

The name didn’t ring a bell.

“[You know? Skoodge! His friend since smeethood? His partner from the academy? We used to serve the Empire side by side together?]”

Dib shook his head. Zim had never once talked about any “Skoodge”. The soldier slumped just a bit as he glared.

“[Of _course_ you’ve never heard of me. Leave it to Zim not mention even a single _thing_ about one of his closest friends to his mate. I see how he is.]”

The human flushed.

“He told you I was his mate?” The para-scientist questioned.

“[Eh, more or less.]” Skoodge answered with a wobble of his hand. “[Zims’ always been sort of iffy about relationships. He didn’t think _we_ were friends until I told him we were. Zim tends to assume the worst of things. The way he always gushed about you, I just thought it was the same thing.]”

Zim _gushed_ about him? How sweet. Dib hoped he was okay.

“[Unless I’m wrong.]” The Irken added.

“No, no. We actually kissed right before I got dragged over here, so we’re definitely _something_ like that.”

“[Neat. What’s] kissing?”

The sound of an echoing march within the hall caught the twos’ attention.

“I’d love to explain that but right now I need a way out of here.” Dib reminded the other, “I don’t suppose there’s any sort of escape pod bay you could lead me to, right?”

The soldier slunk further into the hole and shook his head.

“[Not from here, and there are soldiers crawling around everywhere. The battle outside’s dragged nearly the _entire_ armada here. Myself, along with many of the other invaders were pulled from duty just to act as additional firepower. They have nearly _everyone_ here right now.]” Skoodge informed, as he took a hold of the console and assessed it’s damage.

“[I couldn’t sneak you in no matter what I tried.]” He continued, “[I’m not stationed anywhere _near_ that sector and I’d be arrested on the spot if I got too close. They’d know something was up. Irkens obey after all. You should _never_ have to question why an _Irken_ is somewhere they shouldn’t be.]”

Once the soldier understood the issues he’d need to fix he swiftly got to work, using his pak legs to weld strands of broken wire together as he made the proper repairs.

“You seem smart enough to know how wrong all of that sounds.” Dib acknowledged, “Why are you putting up with all of this?”

Skoodge paused for a moment as he sighed.

“[Because- I’m smart.]” He answered.

Dib said nothing further, unsure of what he could say, and let him work.

***

The Resisty looked like it’d seen better days. Aliens from various reaches across space were standing by across the ship, battered and restless. Shoddy patchwork was littered everywhere as far as Zim could see. Which led the Irken to believe it had been some time since the resistance had the proper numbers on their side to attend to their vessels damage. They were entering a losing battle. Of that, Zim had no doubt.

“I’m afraid you’ve caught us at a rather inopportune time, my most reluctant rebel.” Lard addressed as he walked Zim and Gaz along his ship, “The Tallest have taken to swarming our resistance with their sheer numbers. No doubt, they’ve finally come to understand that we mean business. _Or_ perhaps, this has something to do with us changing our Netlu passwords.”

“It’s more likely the latter.” Zim assured.

“Regardless,” The leader continued, “we can’t take much more of this. Our shields are nearly depleted, they know our _every_ move, and we can’t fly a single ship past their defenses.”

The alien sighed, but looked hopefully towards the pair.

“At the very least, we managed to rescue the two of you before we decided to retreat. So something good came from all of this. Hopefully we’ll come up with a better plan for next time.”

Zim and Gaz were quick to stand in front of the horned leader.

“We _can’t _just leave.” Gaz denied.

“Dib, a member of our vessel, is trapped aboard the Massive.” Zim explained.

“He’s our _family_!” She added.

“Please!” The Irken begged, “We _cannot_ leave without him. Dib is- he is _everything_ to us… to _me_.”

“Alright, alright. Take it _easy_!” Lard Nar assured, “That certainly changes things. Still- you at least have _some_ sort of plan for how to rescue him. Don’t you?”

Zim trailed at a blank. He looked towards Gaz, who didn’t look too inspired for ideas herself.

“Sir!” A Resisty rebel called out, sliding from the hall.

“This wouldn’t happen to be _good_ news, would it?” The vortian sighed, as exhaustion took over.

The soldier waved about a hand held halo projection, calling the device to attention.

“We’ve made contact with a creature aboard the Massive! One that looks like the female currently accompanying the good Irken.”

Gaz and Zim turned to one another.

“Dib!” They both realized.

The two raced down the hall towards the halo projection. Waiting for them on the rebels’ handheld was the para-scientist.

“Hey guys! Guess who didn’t die?”

***

Skoodge had done a fantastic job of fixing the broken console back to working condition. Their first call hadn’t yielded an answer and Dib almost assumed the worst. Thankfully, the humans’ new Irken friend kept him from falling apart, and gave him the will to keep trying. Getting accessing to the Resisty wasn’t all that hard and now here he was, looking into the two faces he cherished most in the entire galaxy.

“You absolute _idiot_! What were you thinking, Dib!?” Zim spat.

“How fucking _dare_ you leave us like that!” Gaz ranted.

“Do you have any _idea_ how much we worried about you!?” The Irken added.

“Don’t you _ever_ do something like that again, you _dumb_ _bastard_!” His sister demanded.

Dib wiped a tear from his eye. He loved them so much.

“[Why are you and I only friends with the meanest of people?]” Skoodge questioned as he moved to sit beside the para-scientist, “[I’m starting to think that it’s more telling of flaws inherent in _me_.]”

“[Skoodge?]” Zim questioned, surprised to see another familiar face.

“[Yep. I’m here too. Rescued your] boyfriend [by the way. You’re welcome.]”

Dib could see his Irken flush at that and smiled, laughing just a small bit.

“[I said that word right, didn’t I?]” The soldier asked, concerned by the reaction.

Dib gave him a thumbs up and his new friend shakily gave him one back. Skoodge was still learning. The human would make sure that he continued to. It had been some time since he’s acted as Ambassador to Earth. Dib missed little cultural exchanges like this.

“Whatever you guys are talking about right now can wait.” Gaz cut in, pressing closer to the screen, “How do we get you off of that thing?”

Dib and Skoodge were happy to reveal just that. They had a plan.

“The two of us have access to an older part to the ship. That’s how we’re even making this call, but it can do so much more.”

“[Zim, these old consoles are so obsolete compared to our recent upgrades that they’re practically _untraceable_ to the Massives’ main system.]”

Dib pulled out a USB drive.

“If Skoodge and I could get _this_ drive plugged into an outer access port, then we could have access to just about anything on this ship!”

“[That is, before the drive gets purged by a system flush.]”

“But that would still give us about three minutes of control. Just long enough-”

“[-To make it to the escape pods.]”

His sister took the monitor as Zim was left to ruminate his thoughts.

“Okay. I understood about half of that.” Gaz remarked, “But I understand enough to ask just _how_ do you expect to hand that to us?”

“We’re sending it to you now.” Dib answered, “You’ll just have to load it onto a flash of your own.”

“And what do we do once we get _that_?” Gaz questioned again.

“We’ll need to fly to the Massive and insert the drive manually.” Zim elaborated.

“Are you insane? There’s _no_ way through!” One of the rebels reminded the group.

“There isn’t a pilot _alive_ who could navigate through a stronghold like _that_.” Another added.

“It would take someone with a near _impossible_ level of hand eye coordination to make it past their defenses.”

Dib watched as his sisters’ eyes light up in a way he’d never seen before. It was almost like an awakening had taken place in her.

“Show me one of these ships of yours.” She commanded.

The para-scientist watched as his little sister walked off screen, and knew he was in the best hands. Oh she could fly alright. Of that, Dib was certain. All that was left was Zim.

“Dib?” He questioned, holding onto the screen as if it were Dib himself.

“Zim, you need to get out there and protect my sister. She’s gonna need an opening if she wants a chance at making it through. I know you and Gir can think of something.”

The human watched as the other seemed to shrink back, looking unsure.

“I know. I know. I was already about to- um… _do_ that.” The Irken clarified, “It’s just that- er, well… we never got a chance to talk.”

“It’s okay, Zim. And I _want_ to talk. About so much. I do. But right now-”

“You mean everything to me and I miss you!” Zim shouted from the monitor, “I- dwelled on a stupid mistake, a mistake of _mine _not _yours _I should add, and I dwelled on that mistake for _far_ too long. Dib, I was… afraid. I was afraid of ruining everything and instead of talking to you like I _should_ have, I panicked and obsessed. Like I always do.”

“Zim,”

“There.” He finished, with a doomed sigh, “I needed to get that out of my paks system. Before I got us both killed.”

Dib smiled and could only shake his head. Zim was always so over dramatic.

“Babe, we’re _not_ gonna to die. Come on. We’ve survived worse than this.”

The way the aliens’ antennae poked about in curiosity calmed and livened his nerves. He was just too cute sometimes.

“Babe? Who is this “babe”?” Zim questioned as he looked around him.

“You are, you dumb lizard.” Dib answered, reveling in the Irkens’ confusion.

“Eh! Why do you call Zim, “babe”? Is it an insult?”

“Try, “term of endearment”. It’s an Earth custom. Just a small way for me to say, that you mean everything to me too.”

Dib could tell it was slowly dawning on Zim what he meant by the way he began to flush.

“Oh, yes. I understand.”

He could see Zims’ relief too, and that felt like a good start to their relationship.

“Very well then.” Zim continued, “Gir and I will create a diversion for Gaz, she will insert the drive, so that you can disengage the Massives’ security and escape.”

“That’s the plan.” Dib accepted.

There were important details missing in between that plan, but Dib figured they’d get to them once they did. He trusted his family to know what to do.

“Don’t worry, Dib-Sweet. I’ve got you. You’re coming home.”

The human smiled. He had nowhere else to go. Just like he promised.

***

Gaz knew her way behind the wheel. It’s been years since the last time she had to fly off into outer space and rescue her older brother from Irken territory, but Gaz was _born_ with muscle memory. The moment the Membrane sister sank into the cock pit and let her fingers rest against the dash, was a feeling as akin to connecting with a severed hand. The fighter ship was an extension of the seasoned gamer. Years of flight simulators, keyboards, and exposure to Irken tech had Gaz very familiar with what to do. As for what she didn’t know yet, she figured she’d just wing it.

Great. Now that Dib wasn’t here she was taking after his bad jokes. They needed to rescue him before she started talking like him too. _Thing__s__ he do_. She scoffed as she thought about it. Gaz refused to let her brother live that one down.

From the monitor on her dashboard, the Membrane sister could see that Zim was still only preparing to cause his diversion. Unfortunately, that gave her time. Something that, at the moment, she could really do without. Because when Gaz had time, she was left to focus on her current list of shit. Of which, there would always be plenty.

Her brother is being held captive by a dictator race. Zim is seen as enemy number one to his own kind yet he’s risking his neck just to save him. Gir, who she’d rather not see get blown to pieces, still thinks everyone’s having fun. Their stupid Dad hasn’t tried to call, despite her leaving him a note on the fridge like an idiot, because of _course_ he didn’t notice she was gone. Gaz was hardly a qualified pilot. What the fuck were any of these people even saying!?

She could go on listing each stress, and let them bury her one by one,

“Ready for Launch in three,”

but she needed to get her shit together.

“two,”

Because she was Gaz Membrane,

“one.”

and it was time for her to act like it.

“Launch!”

As the air lock opened Gaz dipped down, flying the ship in as covert a cover as she could. Zim was doing a good job. Entire flanks of ships were devoting their attention to the front, leaving just enough blind space for Gaz to slip under and to the left. So far, she’d been given a clear stretch. According to the instructions left on the flash, she was getting close. The access port was under the hull of the ship.

Gaz noticed a static interference with her monitor, obstructing her map. She slapped the screen as she tried to focus on ahead.

“Aww. What’s the matter pig-love? Problems with the reception?” Said an oddly familiar voice.

Gaz had only ever heard _one_ person in her life with a posh British accent. Though it was really just the one time. Now that she thought about it, _who_ was this supposed to be again? The face aboard the vessel ahead revealed an Irken with curled antennae, a wire through her skull, and purple eyes. Gaz leaned back in her seat, unimpressed with the sly smirking figure.

“I wanna say, Tick?” She offered.

The Soldier slammed her fist against her dashboard,

“It’s _Tak_!”

“Close enough.”

“Listen you.” The Irken began, “We are on the cusps of victory. Your pathetic efforts to save that stupid human of yours amuse me, but I haven’t forgotten of your acidic attempt on my life!”

“You mean me spraying you with _soda_? I’m surprised _I_ even remember that.” Gaz remarked.

“I’ve been waiting for a day like this for a long time, human.” As she spoke, Gaz noticed laser reticles trained on her ship, “Try to keep it interesting for me.”

Gaz dodged the line of fire managing to escape with only a few scuffs against the glass. Tak followed close behind. Gaz was left with no choice but to fly against the underside of the Massive. There _was_ no going back, not with an entire army at the ready. She led the Irken through thick loops of cable as she folded her ship through every thin passage way she could. The Irken slipped past every sharp turn and misdirection Gaz tried to lead her through as she continued to open fire.

“Is this seriously the best you can do?” Tak puffed as she scoffed, “You’re pathetic.”

“I don’t know _hack_, you’d think a trained soldier would have shot me down already.”

“I’ve already told you, it’s Tak!” The soldier barked.

Said trained soldier nearly ran into a docking port as she bellowed out. From the corner of her eye, Gaz could see that the right barrel mounted on her ship had bent and pulled out quite a bit from the rest of the vessel. The human smirked as an idea formed in her head. There was a nest of lose wire just up ahead. Tak would have no problem navigating her ship through that jungle of wires as long as she wasn’t _distracted_, right.

“And I don’t care.” The human remarked, swooping in.

Gaz heard her growl as she chased her down.

“How does it feel to fail your third mission?” The Membrane sister asked as she veered to the left.

“I haven’t failed, so I feel fantastic!” Tak answered, ramming into the humans’ starboard.

“Then why isn’t Earth a giant snack ball?” Gaz questioned as she pulled up the bow.

“It’s because that stupid leader of yours sabotaged me!”

Gaz mock gasped as she suddenly veered to the left.

“Are you saying that Zim defeated you with a plan he _successfully_ executed?”

“_He_ didn’t do anything!” She denied, losing focus, “Whatever he did to Mimi ruined my plans! Not him!”

There was just the slimmest of narrow passages up ahead leading out of the wired mess, blocked in by metal beams. If Gaz was good at anything at all, it was saying just the right thing to piss people off. She had one chance.

“You’re right. That wasn’t Zim.” She admitted as she concentrated on slipping through, “It was Gir.”

Gaz made it, having to sacrifice a bulk her ships left wing to the beams in return. In a shrieking fury Tak rammed her ship full force towards the bundle of wires, however the barrel now jutting out from the side of her ship had locked in front of one of beam blocking her way forward. The tight space didn’t leave room to turn and along with the tangling of wires that roped her in from turning back, she’d become stuck. Gaz watched as the Irken struggled and punched her console.

“Ouch.” The human teased, “Four failures now. _That’s_ embarrassing.”

“This isn’t over yet you- _you_-”

“It’s Gaz Membrane. And _I_ was the one who told Gir to override your robot.”

She could hear Tak sulk, growling in frustration as she shouted after her,

“Membrane!”

before Gaz cut the transmission and smirked.

“She’s actually kinda cute.” Gaz confided with her dashboard, “You know, for someone who wants to _murder_ me. Think I’m starting to see the appeal.”

After a quick flight the Membrane sister had found the access panel. Stopping the ship, she tapped the space suit to activate it. Gaz popped opened the glass dome of her ship and looked for the nearest port, until she found something usable then pulled out the drive. She looked toward the device apprehensively as she sighed.

“Come on Dib. This is all I can do. The rest is up to you.”

Against her nature, she hoped for the best as she plugged the USB in.

***

Just a bit earlier than that-

He could do this. Didn’t he single handedly stop Operation Impending Doom I? Accidentally... Without even meaning to… While he was still aligned with Irk. Okay, so maybe this was a first for him after all- _but still_, Zim could do this. It was just one Irken… going up against a million… That sure was a lot of people to hate his spoochy guts.

“How come you’re not shootin’ all the bad guys, huh? Your man candy's waitin’ for ya.”

Zim rubbed at his temples as he tried to think. This really was a lot of pressure. He just needed a little bit of time to think.

“I’m bored. Hey master can I do the thing?”

No, that wouldn’t work. He’d be blown to bits the second he charged in. Going around wasn’t an option either. Too many ships. Not enough would follow. Gaz would still be swarmed.

“Hey. Hey master. Hey. Hey. Hey. Can I do the thing, huh? You said it was the last thing you’d do. I remember. That’s what you said. So can I? Can I? Master!”

Zim waved his minion away. This was a sensitive mission that required concentration.

“Do whatever Gir. Now! No more distractions. Need to focus.”

“Oooo-kay!” The robot replied with a thumbs up.

Zim could faintly hear Gir squeaking away as he concentrated once again on a plan. Could the universe just give him a break? Five minutes. Was that really so much to ask for? He couldn’t even be given five minutes to figure out this whole boy-love-friend business _thingy_ without something going horribly wrong?

“_Rocket deployed._” His computer announced suddenly.

“WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHH!!!”

Zim watched helplessly as his loyal minion disobeyed his only order of the day. Gir soared from a missile directly toward the hoard of Irken soldiers, like a nuke to a bowling alley. The former invader scowled, grunting as he reluctantly took the wheel.

“Why do I even bother…” He spoke, unsurprised as he followed after.

Between there and elsewhere, the armada was quietly waiting for signs of an attack from the Resisty.

“[So uh? Any plans for tonight?]”

“[Honestly… I don’t know. I heard they’re opening a vegan restaurant on Foodcourtia.]”

“[Vegan? Don’t tell me you’ve been eating vegetables again. They’re so _bad_ for you.]”

“[I know. But it’s a guilty pleasure. I’ve been so stressed lately.]”

“[Well don’t go making a habit out of it. Those things will rot your teeth.]”

“[You’re right, it’s just so- wait. Do you see that?]”

In the distance and closing in fast looked to be a green animal with a metal head flying towards them.

“[By the stars- THAT’S A MISSILE!]”

“YEEEEEE HEE HEE! YEAH! I’M A ROCKET!!”

By the time Zim had flown out to face the brunt of the armada, the missile had already blown a section of the fleet helplessly into the stars. Thankfully, Gir had jumped off before the explosion. Zim was relieved the robot could at least be bothered to obey him that much. He’d rather not have it this way, but he supposed Gir was leading them now. They needed a distraction for Gaz, and there was nothing in the multiverse more distracting than his minion playing. He seemed to be a rather effective distraction all on his own.

Gir grappled from ship to ship dancing on the hoods as he caused the soldiers to shoot at each other in the ensuing chaos. His former people caught in the blast were now floating about aimlessly as they tried to steer themselves towards some form of gravity. Their suits would protect them from the dangers of space. Zim was hardly worried of any harmful collateral damage. They’d just float about stupidly out of their way. Somehow this turned out to be the best plan they could have ran with.

A few curious stragglers however would try to slink away from the distraction his minion was causing. Zim supposed that was where he could come in. The former soldier boxed the stray ships in, doing everything in his power to keep them busy. One ship managed to escape, but he wouldn’t let it happen again. Other ships tried to follow, only for Zim to ram them away. He could see his screen projecting a transmission as he kept the other vessels at bay.

“How you holding up?” Dib asked from the feed.

“All’s well. More or less.” The alien grunted as he maneuvered past a formation of ships, “How are you, Love-Thing?”

“Love-Thing?” The human snickered from his end, “Zim, you _do_ know that “thing” isn’t exactly a _nice_ word, right?”

Enemy fire berated him, but it was easy to ignore just about anything when they argued. Zim supposed it was just how they commenced with “flirting”. As Dib had once called it. If that was the case, they’d been flirting for years now.

“What are you talking about? I call you “thing” all the time, Dib-Thing.” Zim elaborated as he gunned down approaching ships.

“You call me “Dib-Thing” when you’re mad at me.” Dib corrected.

“I- do- _not_.” The Irken scoffed.

“Yesterday you called me Dib-Thing because I ate the last waffle Gir made for breakfast.”

“Well- you call Zim a “dumb lizard”!”

“_That’s_ because you are.” The para-scientist sassed, poking out his tongue.

The Irken smirked as he veered his ship away from hostile fire.

“And what does that say about you, Stinky? Because unfortunately for you, I am _your_ dumb lizard.” The former invader informed the other.

“Who said that was unfortunate?” The para-scientist stated, looking at him like he’s missed him for years.

“It’s unfortunate Dib, because the only thing dumber than a dumb lizard is whoever would decide to _mate_ with a dumb lizard.” Zim explained as he kept more soldiers from escaping to Gaz.

Dib grinned like an idiot from his side of the screen.

“Hey! That was a self-deprecating joke!” The human praised. “So you’re finally off your high and mighty soap box then, huh? Admit you’re not hot shit?”

Why did shit mean so many things? Shit that was warm sounded revolting. No, wait. That meant the best right? The Irken puffed up his chest.

“On the contrary,” He replied, a smug hand pressed proudly to his chest, “I am a _steaming_ pile of shits, Dib.”

He watched the para-scientist turn from the screen as he covered his mouth. When Dib pulled himself back into view, he looked like he was trying not to laugh.

“Whatever you say, babe. Whatever you say.”

The screen split in half as Gaz connected through on the line.

“Dib.” His sister addressed, “You’re all set to go.”

“Uh, right.” The brother accepted, “This is it, guys. Wish me luck. Gaz.” Dib nodded towards his sister, “Dumb lizard.” He nodded toward Zim, before he cut the transmission.

“No formal goodbyes then.” Zim noted.

“He better damn well _not _be giving us any formal goodbyes.” Gaz rejected, slamming her fist onto the deck of her ship. “We’ve been through too much bullshit to give up now.”

Zim grunted a simple approval. She was right; no giving up. They believed in him. Just as Dib could trust them to drag his sorry hide from the depths of hell and back, so too would they trust him come out of the worst of flames kicking and screaming with stubborn life. It was in their nature to survive and they’d make it out of this together, like always.

***

The screen before Dib glittered enticingly like candy. So. Many. Options. However, what to operate first? Deactivating the weapons? Shutting off the power grid? Lowering the shields?

It would be nice to lend the Resisty a hand with their efforts, but it was honestly out of the question. You can’t win a war in three minutes, and that was a generous estimate. Dib still wasn’t sure if they even had that much. They just needed to get to those escape pods.

“[Well. What now?]” Skoodge asked, as apprehensive to touch anything as Dib was.

“Now, we get out of here.” The para-scientist offered.

Disabling the Massives’ weapons seemed like the best way to go. A blackout could do them some good as well. He’s seen Zim stumbling about in the dark, although Dib needed to make sure that he could see what he was doing too. So maybe cutting the lights wasn’t such a good idea.

“[We?]” The soldier nervously questioned, “[I don’t know about that.]”

Dib stopped what he was doing.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” The human asked, “You don’t want to stay here, do you?”

“[It’s not about what I want. I _can’t_ leave.]”

“But why?”

“[Why?] Dib [you know why. It’s-]” Skoodge tried to explain.

“[The creature is still down here. It never left the area. The human has to be around somewhere. Fan out.]”

Before Dib could protest Skoodge took the reigns of the control panel and cut the electrical grid.

“[We’ve lost power. I repeat. We’ve lost power.]” One soldier announced.

An alarm sounded, and the only light in sight was the blink of red flashing about in the hall. The para-scientist was shoved out of the hiding hole by his companion.

“Skoodge,” Dib hissed in a whisper, “What the hell!?”

“[Maybe someday I’ll let myself make that stupid decision and join you.]” The Irken argued, “[But not yet. I’m… not ready.]”

At the humans sad look the other scowled, determined.

“[Look, I’ve already made up my mind, so don’t go trying to change it. Now get out of here! I’ll keep them busy.]”

Dib reached out to him, only to pull away. As much as he hated leaving him behind, the decision was Skoodges’ to make.

“We’ll come back for you.” The human swore, “Someday.”

“[Something tells me you will.]” Skoodge accepted, “[Just- don’t get yourselves killed trying. It was nice to finally meet you.]”

“You too.”

“[I think I heard something!]” A soldier called out in the distance, “[Over here!]”

“[Go.]”

Dib nodded before he rushed off into the dark. His footfalls alerted the guards, but the sound did little to guide their aim. The human skated past the patrols doing his best not to smack himself into the walls. An occasional flash from the alarms gave him a small window of guidance as he hurried to the nearest escape pods. Down the halls, and past near endless turns Dib only felt farther and farther away from his goal. The blaring noise did little to calm his nerves, and all the while that haze in his vision returning was making the dark far more nerve racking to trek through.

Why was it coming back? What even were all these blurbs of red floating up and down, and all around him? The shapes looked familiar too. Like silhouettes of Zim. Almost as if they were heat signatures. Dib startled at that as he stopped.

“_This is- it’s almost like a super power… what the hell?_”

Somehow, that put it into context for him and only left the human scrambling for answers. Answers that, unfortunately at the moment he couldn’t answer. Right now, all he knew was that he could see them and they couldn’t see him. Dib would use that to his advantage. Deciding to trust in this strange thing that was happening to him, he focused on the red silhouettes and used them as a guide in the dark. Running with confidence as he avoided them and wove through the shadows.

His fear wash away from him, as adrenaline roared from his ears. Dib felt alive as he bolted towards the pods, now clear in view. It was enough to almost make him forget that he was still in his underwear. Almost. That same confidence left him when the lights came back on. The sudden brightness stung his eyes and blinded him for a brief moment. As his eyes readjusted to the harsh blaze of white light, Dib found himself surrounded again.

The para-scientist was unarmed, though it would have hardly mattered if he’d managed to keep a hold of the gun he’d snagged earlier anyway. He was far out numbered. Dib wasn’t sure how aliens surrendered, but figured throwing his hands up was a universal as it gets.

A screen from above hurtled it’s way forward as it ran a transmission.

“Are we back online? Wow! That was like- a whole sect and a half! We could have missed the intro to Blotto Says!” Purple remarked from the monitor floating above.

“[Almighty Tallest, we’ve captured the creature.]” A soldier remarked, striking his gun into the humans’ raised arm.

Red leaned in from the right of the screen as he shifted into view.

“Huh. I forgot it was still here.” The scarlet dictator admitted, scratching his chin in thought, “Hey Pur. You have any ideas on what we should do with that thing?”

“BLOW IT UP!” The violet Tallest declared.

Dib swallowed a dry lump in his throat.

“Come on.” The other argued, seeming to roll his eyes, “You _always_ say that.”

“Yeah? Well when is it ever _not_ fun to blow stuff up?”

“I see your point and I agree, it’s just that I think it would be nice to- you know… try something different?” Red offered hopefully.

Dib could see that they were distracted. This could be his chance.

“We… could… tie it to a rocket.” Purple tried, tapping his chin as he thought.

“That sounds good.”

“And then we could- BLOW IT UP!”

The para-scientist tip toed backward. It seemed everyone was looking up at the screens.

“You’re missing the point of what I’m saying.” Red scowled, annoyed.

“Oh! _I_ see how it is! You don’t like _my_ ideas.” Purple rationalized, “You just want me to say what _you_ want to do!”

“Why would I ask you what _I_ want?” The scarlet Tallest questioned, “I already know what I want.”

Dib carefully brushed around past the soldiers, still focused on their leaders.

“Then say it!”

“I want to chop it’s head off!” Red declared, smashing the arm of his chair.

“And now I’m supposed to say that _I_ want to chop it’s head off. So fine. I want to chop it’s head off! There. Happy!?” The violet Tallest declared, folding his arms.

“No! Because you’re only saying it because I told you that’s what _I_ want!” Red argued.

Almost. There.

“You know, I’m not the only one who- Oh for Irks sake!” Purple groaned, slapping his face before thrusting his hand towards Dib, “It’s still trying to escape guys. Can somebody apprehend that thing?”

Dib found himself grabbed just mere centimeters from the doors of a pod and thrust right back in the middle of the circle of soldiers.

“Wow.” The scarlet dictator observed, amused. “That was stupid. It actually thought that would work.”

“Humans are so dumb.” The other added.

Dib couldn’t help but protest his capture a little. He knew the Irkens surrounding him were armed to the teeth, but still he tried his best to jostle out of their hold. He was struck in the back of the head for his efforts by one soldiers weapons. A warning. Escape was just so damn close. One door away and he would be gone.

However, they just held tightly onto him as they shoved him towards the ground and on his knees. Dib covered his head, protecting himself even if it was only a pointless comfort. He was afraid, and there was nothing else he could do. There was a cold energy to the room, as the harsh tap of a barrel was shoved towards his head. Red seemed inspired, and looked towards the human with cruel intent.

“I think a live execution might be just what we need to… send the right message.”

Dib felt his hair stand on end, and something else. As his breathing picked up he noticed a familiar scent handing in the air. A smell he hadn’t caught breath of in years. Ash.

“What the-? Hey! Tech guy! What’s going on with the console? The screen’s _gli- gli- gli-_” Purples’ question broke off when the transmission cut off.

The faint sound of buzzing caught his ears, but it hardly registered to the human. Dib was too focused on the strange heat forming along his spine to properly listen. Pops of glass overhead slowly dimmed the room as one by one the lights began to burst from the overcharge. Dib could feel something soft peeling from his back as his shirt tore off. Bones cracked from behind him and stretched. It felt like his arms reaching for the sky, which only served to terrify him.

Dib had never removed his hands from his head.

“[What is that thing!?]”

“[They never warned us humans could do _that_!]”

Dib felt himself being lifted and the heavy breeze of wind rushing overhead. He looked down, still clutching fearfully onto his head, and noticed more of those curious black feathers fluttering around him as he dangled in the air. Ash? Feathers? Seeing _Red_…? Wait. Was he-

The para-scientist jerked backward suddenly, harshly crashing into an open escape pod as he flung himself inside. He felt a flaring pain strike the back of his head as he collided against a wall. Dib’s hand landed against something on a dashboard, a button he could only guess, and he did what he could as fumbled about to press it. He couldn’t quite making out what was happening as he watched a set of doors begin to close. Everything was blurring again. Dib barely registered the sensation of a warm wet trickle running down his face, before everything went black.

***

It’s been five minutes since the blackout. The lights were back on, but where was Dib? He and Gaz could only fend off the armada for so long. Zim’s ship wouldn’t stop warning him of it’s various system failures and it was getting to be too much. The Irken could _see_ the billowings of smoke trailing out from his engine, he didn’t need to be reminded that he was getting shot at. His vessel was struggling to keep and Zim knew it wouldn’t last for too much longer.

“Gaz, your status?” Zim struggled to question from his end on the line.

“_Warning. Critical system failure. Warning. Critical system failure. War-_” His computer repeated.

“I’m fine,” She answered, “Worry about yourself. Your ship sounds like shit.”

“It will manage.” He replied as he strained to veer to the right. “Do you see your brother?”

“Not since the last five seconds you asked me.” Gaz answered, shaking the ships on his tail away.

One shot fired against his window, one of too many, and the glass finally gave way. The hole that was left from the blast was creating a vacuum leaving Zim with no choice but to activate his suit and open the hatch. The dome was ripped from it’s frail hinges leaving Zim to the cold open space. All sound stopped in an instant, even his own breathing. He couldn’t hear Gaz as she tried to call out to him. All he could hear was an empty void of nothing.

Zim was really no good at this sort of thing. He knew that. As his ship lost all stability and barreled about in space he began to silently snicker.

“I suck at piloting.” He practically mouthed, unable to form sound.

No one could hear him. It was fine to admit it. Admitting he wasn’t the greatest wasn’t easy, but his family helped him through it. Zim didn’t have to be anymore. Gaz. Gir. Dib. They all thought he was good enough already.

He used to hate that. Being told he was _good enough_. It felt like accepting failure, when it was the opposite all along. He watched as the Membrane sister spoke to him from the monitor.

“Stop fucking around.” She seemed to say.

He was. He absolutely was. This ship was totaled and he needed a new one. Zim ejected himself from his crumbling ship and used his grapple hook to grapple onto the nearest Irken vessel. His pak legs pried open the hatch, landing Zim his third ship of the encounter. The former invader adjusted the frequency and patched himself back through to Gaz.

“You’re right. You _do_ suck at piloting.” She voiced with a smirk through the feed.

“Hey!” Zim protested, “That was for my antennae only!”

“Not my fault you think out loud.” Gaz defended.

Just then Zim watched a vessel shoot out from the Massive. A pod.

“Dib!” The Irken called out.

Gazs’ attention followed Zims’ towards the lone escape pod.

“Alright. Finally! Now let’s go get-”

“You’re not going anywhere!” A ship cut in, blocking Gaz from reaching a randevu with Zim, “We have unfinished business, Membrane.”

Before Zim could question what Tak was doing here and before his ship could even warn him, an on approaching vessel hurtled into the rival Irkens’ ship. A new transmission cut into the feed as an unfamiliar face highlighted the screen. Some sort of shaggy dog-like creature.

“We’ll handle this. Go get your little friend.” A feminine voice affirmed, “Nebula Mutts! Let’s sick em’!”

He had no idea what any of that was supposed to mean. What was happening? The Nebula Mutts, a fleet of five, began to push the armada’s ranks back, clearing the way for Zim to make it to Dib. He looked to Gaz for any sort of confirmation. She only shrugged.

“Just go get Dib. _We_ got this. Apparently.”

He trusted Gaz to handle herself. He’d just have to gather Dib up on his own. The Irken hurtled himself toward the aimlessly drifting escape pod and now that he thought about it, why was it aimlessly floating about? Dib knew how to operate Irken technology. Surely an escape pod wasn’t that difficult to drive. He tried to connect to the pod, only to be met with static.

“**********”

“Dib. Dib answer the com. It’s me, Zim. Can’t you hear me?” The alien called out to his screen.

“**********”

Zim smacked his monitor, worried it might be a malfunction on his own end. However when he redistributed the frequency,

“**********”

“-o way. This is really your first dog fight? You’re a natural! How did you learn to aileron roll like that?”

“Don’t know. Got good, I guess.”

“What!? That’s awesome-”

“**********”

he only to received the same static. Why wasn’t Dib answering? Something wasn’t right. Zim attached his ship to the pod and activated his suit. He popped open the hatch and walked carefully along the hood of his ship. The magnetic pull of his boots kept him from hurtling off into space as he approached the window.

Zim pressed his face to the glass, and was mortified with what he saw. Dib’s tattered shirt was coated in blood and he wasn’t moving. He felt his air leave from him, and he almost forgot to take it back in. The defected Irken pounded at the door, as the void swallowed his screams. He couldn’t think and he couldn’t reason. Not when his human was on the other side like this, on the verge of leaving them.

Blobs of water floated about in front of him, getting in his way. Zim swatted them away as he tried to pry Dib out.

“_Get him out. Get him out. Get him out. __Get him out.__-_” His mind retraced over and over without logic or reason.

The more he tugged the door and the more he batted at the water, the more his mind was forced to reason _why_ there was water floating around out in the middle of space. Zim blinked his blurry eyes and finally realized he was crying. He was distressing and being irrational. _No_. He refused to let panic consume him like this. Not again. Dib needed him, and he needed him now.

There was a reason the door wasn’t opening. They were out in space. The human wasn’t wearing a suit. If he actually managed to open the pod, Dib would have died. Zim didn’t _need_ to pull Dib from the pod. He just needed to get the pod back to the Resisty.

“Focus. Dib will be okay.” The Irken spoke silently, calming himself. “Just think of everything that’s good.”

The Irken brought himself back to now. Let himself focus on Dib. Warm where he was cold, and soft where he was sharp. Dib. Zims’ calming juxtaposition. The Irken hopped back into his ship and gave himself enough time to spare a quick, soothing, breath before he headed back to the Resisty.

His screen began to flicker.

“[Unit seventeen captain, what’s your teams’ status?]” A commanding officer addressed.

Zim raised a brow at the soldier on screen. A captain, he was not.

“[Oh no. It’s _you_.]”

He supposed in another time being patched through to the Tallest so frequently would have been a dream. An older Zim was beginning to find it a bit annoying.

“Ugh! Why won’t you just die already!?” Red bemoaned.

Zim rolled his eyes.

“Hey, don’t think we didn’t just see that!” Purple declared, “Can you believe this, Red? He spends what-” he stopped to count on his two claws switching between them to count higher, “four-five,” he mutters before blurting, “_thirteen_ years on Earth and now he thinks he’s “his own Irken”. And why?! Just because he got a little _taller_? I did the calculations! Based on the measurement of a standard Sir unit, and using your dumb robots height as a guide, you’re only- er,” The dictator fumbled about again as he crunched the numbers, “… Ah! Eight florbecks tall! That’s nothing!”

Zim gripped the wheel tight as he waited for a new order of attack. For everything to go horribly wrong. The defective soldier waited and yet, nothing came. He looked past the transmission to see that Gaz and their new companions had been joined by the rest of the Resisty. The Irkens, those of his former allegiance, were retreating. He and his new allies were the ones pushing _them_ back.

It was over. This conversation- was little more than sore squabbling. There really was nothing more his former leaders could do to them now. They were falling back and all Zim had to do was cross the finish line. The last thing that was said here would merely be a sweet addition to their victory lap.

He grinned as he snickered. Zim laughed slow, before bellowing out a downright villainous cackle. The defective soldier hadn’t laughed like this since the days he used to try and take over the Earth. It was almost delicious to be this detestable again.

“What’s so funny?” Purple asked bitterly, a single antenna twitching about sourly.

“_Nothing_. Nothing at all…” Zim replied, calming down, “After all you’re right. I _am_ only eight florbecks tall. And eh, how tall are you? Exactly?”

“_We_ stand at a glorious _twelve_ florbecks tall.” Red answered, rather proudly.

“That’s nice… my boyfriend’s twelve point five.”

Their smug expressions dropped, as their jaws collectively dropped to the floor. Purple calculated the numbers gawking blankly into space intensely the more he realized Zim was right, as Red snagged the screen shouting back at him.

“WHAT! YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS! THAT’S NOT POSSI-”

Zim tore out the cables receiving reception, cutting the transmission to static as he finally allowed himself to slink back into his seat.

“Victory.” He replied, effectively exhausted for the rest of the day, “Victory for Zim.”

***

Dib shot up the moment he opened his eyes. Mistake number one. His head did _not_ agree with the movement and throbbed violently from the sudden motion. The para-scientist placed his hands to his head, only to feel a cloth wrapping around it. The underside of his head had been shaved where the wrapping carefully draped along his skull. Where the pain was at it’s most harsh Dib could feel the familiar threads of stitching along his skin.

He’d been injured? Dib remembered being kidnapped and a helpful Irken named Skoodge, though it was hard to think through so much fog. He remembered fighting for his life, with some trouble. Out runned, out gunned it was all there, but he was having a remarkably hard time focusing on details. Weirdly enough, despite how hard everything was to recall the one thought that didn’t seem hazy was of him _flying_ of all things. How hard did he bang his head to go thinking he was some kind of Mothman?

Dib would worry about that later. Right now, he didn’t know where he was and that felt like a very bad thing. The para-scientist lunged out of bed. Mistake number two. His legs weren’t having it and the human was met with a face full of steel floorboard for his efforts. It was then as his cheek slid along the ground, that his glasses being missing came to mind.

Why was today so horrible? Honestly, it was just the worst. Though as he lingered on the floor, he could remember being pulled from his seat in the cockpit. Followed by the best damn kiss of his life. Oh yeah… that was nice.

So maybe today wasn’t the _worst_ day he’s ever had. It was a good morning at least. He could almost picture those cute little claws of his clinking along the metal.

“Should I even _ask_ why you’re on the floor?”

Dib cranked his head up to find a groggy looking Zim, still wearing his shirt from this morning like he owned the damn thing. Because of course he did.

“If I said this was a human tradition- would you buy it?” Dib tried, glued to the floor by this point.

“No.” The Irken answered bluntly.

“I’ve _clearly_ suffered a head injury.” Dib defended, “I think I deserve a little break here.”

Zim pulled Dib to his feet easily enough, steadying the para-scientist against himself as he lifted the other up off the floor. The alien grabbed Dibs' arm and slung it over his shoulder using it as leverage to help him walk. They headed toward the door with Zim guiding him along.

“Heh, been awhile.” Dib remarked, a tad nostalgic remembering the last time he had to leverage the alien like this.

“Oh _please_.” Zim replied, “I have to scrape you’re pathetic worm body from the dirt every other week.”

“Like I don’t do the same… for you.” The para-scientist added, doing his best to keep his head from spinning.

Zim was quick to carry more of Dibs’ weight as they walked.

“[Easy,]” The Irken soothed, “[don’t strain yourself.]”

As smoothly as a battered man could, Dib collected Zim’s face into his hands. The Irken seemed confused even as he pressed into the touch. Dib was sure that memory had been right, but just in case he needed to know. The human brushed his thumb along the underside of the others mouth, drawn to the comfortable smile he found there. Dib moved towards him as carefully as he could, giving him time to back away if it was too much, before he pressed his lips against Zims’. The alien leaned in right away, and Dib could feel himself being supported even more as his legs began to shake.

The human pulled away taking in a magenta galaxy and his breath was taken away all over again.

“Thanks.”

Dib wasn’t sure why he was originally going to say that, but figured he was thankful enough anyway. The alien sighed, even as he smiled.

“I think what you’re trying to say is, “I love you”.”

Dib smirked.

“Oh, like this?” He asked, placing a kiss on the aliens’ cheek, “[I love you, too.]”

Zim weakly swatted the human away as he lavished him with affection and Dib couldn’t help but love how he pretended to not like it. Even as the alien leaned into each and every kiss. He’d stay, and live in this moment for longer, but for now he wanted to be sure that everyone was okay. Dib let Zim guide him out of the room as he tried his best to support himself. The crew seemed lively, he noticed. As the para-scientist took note of the ship through his blinding nearsightedness he wondered if he was correctly making out colorful decorations draping around the halls.

“Am I seeing balloons or is my vision still complete shit?” The human questioned.

“If you would let me perform laser eye surgery on you, you wouldn’t be asking me that.” The other replied.

“Zim, I squirm at the thought of _contacts_. I’m not letting you aim a laser anywhere near my eyes.”

His response was met with a shrug, but the para-scientists’ attention was drawn to a conversation just ahead in the hall. Dib could see a familiar set of shapes and colors just ahead that he’d recognize from anywhere.

“-you’re more like a cat, but hey. We don’t judge. There’s always room for one more in the pack. If you’re interested. Hit us up.”

“Yeah, I’ll think about it but I gotta go. Dib’s gonna wake up soon and I need to be there when-”

“Gaz?” Dib called out.

The para-scientist watched as those shapes and colors he knew so well quickly collected themselves into his sister, tackling him into a hug. Dib would have fallen to the ground if it weren’t for Zim keeping him stable, now hugging him too. He felt something clinging onto his leg, and knew in that moment everyone was here. Dib noticed his sisters watch and almost had to laugh.

“Guys. I was only gone for an hour.”

“Shut up, Dib.” His sister warned, hugging him tighter.

“I will _maim_ you, if you say another word.” His boyfriend added.

Gir growled as he latched onto the para-scientist’s leg.

“Okay. Fair enough. Let’s keep each other safe, then. Love you guys.”

Dib didn’t mind being loved like this.

***

The Earth-

“In local news; aliens. Real all along? We have Officer Luis with us here tonight who saw the whole thing.”

The door to the Membrane home was burst open as the Professor began to search the house. She wasn’t at her friends house. The mother said she hasn’t seen his daughter for the past two days, so she couldn’t have gone there. This was a nightmare. It couldn’t be true! She wasn’t gone!

“I always _knew_ that kid was up to something. Always sneakin’ around. Playing paintball at three am in the mornin’ like a degenerate! So I wasn’t surprised to see him capture that poor alien from down the block. He was always tormentin’ em’.”

Two days. Two days with no sign of her. The Professor had run himself ragged trying to find his daughter. He couldn’t sleep if he were drugged, and the thought of just looking at the fridge had his stomach churning. His son already hated him for whatever reason, he never quite understood why, but never his daughter. Never Gazlene. Now she was gone, with not so much as a warning.

He needed a clue. Just a single note, a sign, anything!!

“Wow! Well, now that someone likable- uh, I mean- _t__rust__worthy_ has stepped up to state exactly what that crazy kid always used to say, I’m convinced. You heard it here on channel five first. Aliens are real and horrible children are abducting them. Stay tuned for the weather after the break.”

The television was nothing but noise. He turned it off, and tried to focus on what could help him find Gazlene. The Professor flipped through his phone book, listing off numbers that could be of any use as he spent the next hour dialing up each one. They yielded no result, and he’d tried every number but one. His son’s. He stared between the page and the buttons on the phone.

Pressing those particular digits always took a toll on him. He decided to try regardless, but once he strained at the fourth key for the third time in a row, he hung up and scolded himself for being so- unproductive. For lack of a better word. Surely it shouldn’t be _th__is_ difficult to call him and ask if he’s seen his sister. He was upset with him sure, but Dib was always upset with him. His son hasn’t _stopped_ being upset since that day.

How could something be so painful for himself when it wasn’t even physical? Things like this, the Professor just didn’t understand. He needed a drink. Too bad the last clinical drug trial he participated in riddled him with alcohol intolerance. Not that he cared too much for liquor anyway. Bitter stuff.

He’d much rather have a banana fruit pop. Speaking of which, he still had one left in the freezer! The Professor turned towards the refrigerator, stopped to appreciate his daughters’ beautifully crafted penmanship, and pulled one of his carefully labeled treats from the back. It was still labeled “P. Membrane”. After that whole “rebellious phase” with his son, he had to start changing his labels just to make a point. Teenagers were almost impossible to raise, why he’d just about had it up to his _neck_ with-

The Professor slammed the door to the freezer shut as he snagged his daughters note from the fridge.

“Dad,

I’m leaving. I’m the only one still here. Everyone’s moving on, and I don’t want to be stuck here alone anymore. Dib’s taking me with him out to space. You probably don’t believe that. That’s fine. As long as you still believe in phone numbers anyway.

3098-053

Call if you want.

You’re my Dad so I love you,

Gaz”

It was a video dial code. He punched in the numbers onto a nearby monitor as quickly as his unsteady fingers could and waited for his children to answer. The dial tone let him know the call was being patched through. He watched the dots dance about on the screen, and waited. After four pauses of tone, there was finally and an answer.

“Yes hello? Who’s calli-… _Dad_?”

He studied the grown man staring back at him in disbelief from the other end of the screen, too old to be his son. How long had his call taken to reach them?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh. Oh Damn. (Update: while I did have plans for adding to the story when I had finished this, I realize now that I'm just not interested in writing this story anymore and that I'd like to move on. I've put this update off for a long time now and I do apologize. I thought given some time I'd be up for it, but the right motivation just didn't happen. If anyone has thoughts on how to end the story, or wants to do their own thing with it by all means, feel free to use this writing as you like. Consider this notice my permission for any and all writers.)This whole story was an exercise in writing the ZaDr story of my dreams. I'm so happy it's finally finished! This has been so much fun! Thank you to everyone whose writings have encouraged me, whose art has inspired me, and whose kind words have up lifted me. This is the kindest fan community I've ever been a part of and I love you all. <3<3<3


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